


Are you okay?

by sorrowthesparrow



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Background Character Death, Beta Peter Hale, Dark Elves, Dom Stiles, Dom/sub Undertones, Kink, Light BDSM, M/M, Nogitsune Stiles, OC, Original Character(s), Original characters: Dark elves and Leshies, PTSD, Phone Sex, Pining Peter, Post Season 4, Praise Kink, Sad Peter, Sad Stiles, Sadomasochism, Secrets, Sub Peter Hale, Texting, bdsm undertones, handjob, sadist Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:47:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrowthesparrow/pseuds/sorrowthesparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is struggling with loving Peter.<br/>After Peter's return, he reaches out to Stiles of all people. No one seems to understand it except for Peter and Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We could just kiss like real people do.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finally goes over to Peter's house and it is nothing like he was worried it might be like.  
> 'As he makes his way down the stairs pulling on an over-sized sweatshirt as he goes, his phones beeps, a quick shrill alerting him to a new message.
> 
> 3: 45 AM  
> "Are you still coming, baby? Do you remember where I live?" - PH
> 
> 3: 45 AM  
> "Yeah" - S

Stiles rubs his sweaty palms on his bed sheets as he sets the phone down. He is going to see Peter. He is going to see Peter. He- fuck! What is he even doing? He stands up quickly worried he might talk himself out of something that he has been thinking about for months. He knows his father is asleep and if he is quiet, he can make it out and inside his jeep without waking him. Sometimes he wishes he had gotten his own place after university.

  
He makes his way down the stairs pulling on an over-sized sweatshirt as he goes, his phones beeps, a quick shrill alerting him to a new message.  
  
3: 45 AM  
_"Are you still coming, baby? Do you remember where I live?" - PH_  
  
3: 45 AM  
"Yeah" - S

And okay, fine, it is justified that Peter messages him. It has been about an hour since he responded agreeing to see him but is anyone really going to fault him? He was basically catatonic for the first 30 minutes after agreeing to see him, and then spent the last few frantically pacing and trying to figure out what their sex would actually be like.  
Because that was the reason Peter asked him over, wasn't it? Nobody invites people over at 2 o'clock in the morning just to talk. Granted Peter is not just anybody, but still. What do you expect? He really doesn't have much experience in this thing. He has kissed and touched just one guy and he was barely sober when that happened. He knows nothing about what men want, let alone what Peter might want. He should have asked Danny about this a long time ago, really.  
  
Stiles feels his body slightly shift forward and then back again, hitting something behind him. Turning abruptly Stiles realizes that he was so caught up in his thoughts he wasn't aware he'd gotten into his jeep and driven all the way to Peter's place. He'd been here many times, never inside, never with Peter's knowledge, but he would come over and scope out the area to see if Peter would notice. Perhaps to even see the kind of life Peter's been living now that he was back. Walking up to the posh building Stiles steels himself for the worst. Everything seems to slow down the closer he gets to Peter's apartment. His thoughts focusing in a way they haven't since - he shakes his head to rid of the unnatural calm blanketing his mind. He is at the door.  
He waits. He waits because he doesn't need to knock, Peter could hear him since he parked up at the drive way. He knows and just as he'd predicted, Peter opens the door not too long after he steps within view of the peephole. He is looking at Stiles; he's waiting for him to speak but Stiles says nothing. He is waiting for Peter, as well.  
"Come in", Peter finally smiles as he steps back, making way for Stiles to enter. But Stiles just stares. This is the first time he has seen Peter this way.  
This is the first time he has heard this tone of voice and associated it to this face.  
Peter’s smiling at him.  
  
He walks forward tentatively towards Peter and again, everything slows down. He doesn't understand why his mind keeps slowing down, why everything focuses so sharply when he is with Peter. This is the first time he has been around Peter and felt this way. However, the feeling is so familiar. It feels old. It is something he hasn’t felt in a very long time. It is almost unrecognizable but he is certain he knows this feeling. It is the same feeling he had before everything went bad, before his mother- he shakes his head again.  
  
“Are you going to keep looking at me like that or...?” Stiles smirks feeling himself relax and fidget less. This time his calm was coming from a different place entire; a place of arousal.  
He hadn’t seen people in really long time, nor was he still the boy he was before Peter was put away. However, he was quite excitable.  
Standing there, he wonders if Peter can tell. If he can tell that time has passed and things have changed and that that boy is no longer. Stiles wonder if he can smell the change in his scent; The decreased leaves of Adderall in his system. Would Peter even ask about if he could smell the difference?

So far, since moving aside to make room for Stiles to enter, Peter hasn't moved very much. He is standing stock still in front of Stiles. His eyes are slowly traveling down Stiles’ body, and Stiles is surprised that even then he does not feel the urge to fidget like he used to.  
He can feel Peter sniffing him, his nostrils flaring slightly as he gets reacquainted with Stiles’ scent, with what his moods smell like.  
Stiles chooses to stay still; he can get his fill of looking when Peter decides that it is okay to move further into his house. Stiles takes in the look of the apartment instead. It is a large expensive flat as he would have expected. It is in the same building where Peter used to stay before everything, but on another floor. It is almost empty, there is only one picture on the mantle and it is a drawing of a wolf. Stiles makes note to ask him about that as his eyes continue to across the room. There isn't much else, a table, a couch set and a carpet, all in a dark shade of blue. Stiles glances towards to kitchen and he can see some food and a bottle of wine. He can- Stiles’ thoughts are interrupted with the feeling of the fabric of his shirt sticking closer to his body and then being move away. Peter is touching him. Tentatively, Peter’s fingers are brushing his left hip bone, tracing the way it juts out sharply. He touches Stiles like he is afraid of something. Peter is never afraid. Maybe he is waiting for permission, which is certainly a first.  
“Go ahead”, Stiles gives Peter permission regardless of what Peter’s hesitance means. It seems to be what he was waiting for because Peter holds more firmly onto Stiles, nails digging into flesh as he lowers and kisses that spot.  
  
“Peter”  
  
And Peter stops; he actually stops and looks up at Stiles, waiting.  
  
“We talked about this, Peter”, and they had.  
  
They had talked about what would happen when and if they met up. When and if Stiles would actually allow for that to happen, they were to talk first. But the look Peter was giving Stiles from below, his blue eyes sparkling in the darkened room...Stiles decides they could talk later. He lowers his hand, wraps his fingers tightly into Peter’s brown curls and holds him against his hip.  
With a grunt at the pulling and pressure in his hair, Peter places chaste kisses against Stiles’ body. He rubs his face against his stomach, sniffing his belly button, and pulling at the elastic stretch of Stiles sweat pants. Stiles doesn't have to ask what Peter is doing, he had been around enough over protective werewolves to know that Peter was scenting him. It wasn't necessarily sexual, but Stiles was half hard and was not going to apologize for it. The scenting keeps going for longer than Stiles expects, longer than he is used to, but when it finally stops, Peter looks up and waits.  
  
"Are you done, pet?”  
  
Stiles smirks, knowing that calling Peter that will get an amusing reaction out of him. He expects laughter, anger, he even expects to Peter to ask him to leave, but when Peter closes his eyes tight and nods quickly, it is such an unexpected reaction that it has Stiles' cock twitching. He doesn't even have time to process it because he is speaking.  
  
“You are, aren't you, Wolf?”

  
It is something he calls Peter all the time in his head. It always seemed appropriate because Peter was always more wolf than human. He was always more animal than were, especially in how he handled himself and his feelings. It feels appropriate, this power play thing that always his go to fantasy, is always at the tip of his tongue when talks to Peter, but that doesn't mean he should have said it out loud. He is almost ready to retract the statement, make light of it, when Peter lets out a loud groan that ends in a whimper. Did he just...?  
  
“Umm...can I use your bathroom, I need to piss, and you know no sex before you pee, urinary tract infection avoidance and all”. Stiles rambles, releasing Peter’s hair and taking a step back. With a deep inhale, that Stiles believes is partly because Peter is trying to gauge Stiles’ emotions through scent, he stands up and pointed down the hall. “You’ll find it” he says and makes his way to the kitchen.  
  
So he panicked and ran. So what? Peter just came, or at least had a very intense reaction to something that Stiles has been jerking his cock about for a long time. This is fucking game changing and he needs some space to think about it. It takes him a lot longer to find the bathroom because although Peter’s bathroom isn't that hard to find, Stiles is distracted by the pictures on the walls, drawings upon drawings.  
  
When he makes his way into Peter’s bedroom, he finds that it is a mess. He can see broken glass, rumpled sheets, dirty clothes, blood remnants, paint all over the walls, and boxes, so many boxes scattered all over the walls and floor. Stiles takes in the mess and side steps it without even stopping once.  
This is the Peter he was expecting, the Peter that is being held together by a string. The Peter that had killed for his family, his pack, only to find out that his Alpha took his memory as a form of punishment and used his loyalty as a weapon. This is the broken wolf he’d talked over the phone, whispering promises of Peter finding a pack that accepts him for him one day.

~.~

Stiles is different. He smells different, lighter and heavier at the same time. He stands so still, his eyes focused and pupils dilated. Peter will deny it if anyone ever asked but Stiles reminds him of the nogitsune when he stands stock still like that, and it was fucking terrifying. So he spends the extra minute sniffing him, making sure he can recognize the little things that were missing from Stiles’ when the nogitsune had taken over.

Little things like that his nervous ticks, which have all but disappeared now. The strong and medicinal smell of adderall that rolled off his flesh, of which there is less of but still there. There is also something he recognizes very well, the always present smell of cinnamon that Peter had learned to categorize as humor. When he can finally confirm that it is indeed Stiles, Peter reaches out and touches him. Touching someone and feeling these feelings of anxiety and excitement was something he hadn't felt in a very long time. He doesn't know how long he was locked away in Eichen House but he knows even before then, it had been up to 15 years.  
  
Stiles’ skin feels fucking soft and smooth under his rough fingertips. He desperately wants to feel more of it but he doesn't want to upset Stiles. They’d talked about this. He is sure Stiles will bring it up, but when he says “go head”, Peter’s body moves faster than his mind can catch up. His fingers squeezing tight as he leans down to taste, just one small taste. It good, but he is chastised just as soon as he does it.

He glances up at Stiles and tries to communicate that damn it, his wolf needs this right now. He needs to know that this the Stiles he’s been talking to for months, he needs to scent and mark him. He needs it, and thankfully Stiles seems to understand. He wraps his fingers into Peter’s hair, tugging him forward by his hair and Peter can feel his wolf preen and itch for the opportunity to come out and mate. He lets his instincts take over, knowing that Stiles will stop him if he needs to. Stiles smells stronger down here, the hairs of his stomach tickling Peter’s nose. It feels good. It feels special.  
Eventually the need to mark and scent fades a little and Peter looks up at Stiles. He wants to stand, but he doesn't want to talk about things, and he knows if he stands, then the moment is broken.

“Are you done, pet?”Stiles breathes, and a shiver runs down Peter's spine at that.

He can feel his cock twitching, leaking. For some reason, his wolf loves the endearment even though Peter the human isn't too excited about it. He closes his eyes tightly because fuck, it feels good. It feels good to hear that he belongs, even though he might belong as pet. Squeezing his eyes even tighter, he nods. He can he hear the blood rushing through his veins and almost misses it when Stiles ruffles his hair and says “You are, aren't you, Wolf?”, and he might as well have, because he groans loudly, obscuring any sound coming from Stiles at the moment. His fingers tighten against his thighs where they've been laying, he nuzzles Stiles’ now hard cock with his face, breathing in the heady scent of arousal and dominance as he cums. He actually fucking cums, and Stiles' response to that is to run.  
Shit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo the tension!


	2. I am The Mess That Has Been Left To Save You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place a year before the first chapter.  
> It is time to party like it is 2013! Any one? No? no? Okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♫On a journey to the past!♫ ...Am I right ladies?
> 
> FYI: I do not have a beta reader yet, grammar, spelling, and formatting errors will be edited as I see them. 
> 
> Be sure to send me some constructive criticism where it is needed, some love when you feel it, and some hellos for the hell of it.

It is 2 AM when Styles’ phone rings. He tosses, turning from left side of the bed to right side in attempts to avoid the annoying shrill. The sound only gets louder with time. “Fuck! Fine!” With a frustrated sigh Stiles answers the phone.

 _"_ Hello?"

"I can fucking hear you, you know! Hello?! Hello?!”

" _Stiles_ "

“Who is thi- P..Peter?”

_“How are you?”_

“How am I? How am I? I am fantastic Peter! Just great, you’ve just interrupted the only bit of good sleep I’ve had in months and all you say is ‘how are you?'. I mean you tried to kill Scott. My best friend Scott! You entitled selfish fuc-“

 _“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have called”_  and all Stiles can hear is the dial tone. He begins to panic, feeling his heart rate picking up, and the sweat in palms and under his arms begin to gather. The dreams are back. He considers taking some of the PTSD medicine he got back in Eichen House but rethinks it. He slowly lies back down, looking down at his hands, moving each finger as he counts.

“One..Fuck this is a dream...two...three..Four...five...six...seven...eight...nine...fuck! Ten! I have ten fingers!" His elation however fades quickly once he realizes what it means. If it isn't a dream, then Peter really did call him. He really did sound that dejected and sad. He even apologized. 

** ~.~ **

Scott waits until after the pack to meeting to bring it up with Stiles. He often has these moments were looks at the pack with sadness in eyes. The pack tries to pretend that they can't smell the obnoxious scent of guilt wafting off of him but it is getting to an unmanageable state.

“Are you okay, man?” Scott glances down at Stiles who is still sitting on the couch in Derek’s loft.

“Yeah, I...I am fine”

“Are you sleeping alright?...No nightmares or anything?” Scott feels guilty still for not noticing that Stiles’ head was being invaded by the nogitsune. He tries to make sure he pays close attention to Stiles at all times.

“Not this again, Scott. I AM FINE.” Stiles sighs.

“Then why are you so distracted! You barely said a word in the meeting and you are the mastermind behind a lot of the pack’s plans, Stiles. You don't talk as much you used to and it is worrying”

Scott can see how Stiles flinches at the word 'mastermind' but he chooses to ignore it. Stiles needs to hear this, he needs to know that the feelings of pain and guilt are hurting the pack more than what he is actually feeling guilty about.

A phone on the table rings and Stiles jolts, making a move to stand but Scott is closer. Scott answers it with a confused glance towards Stiles, exiting the loft to talk to his mom about Rafa. 

As he returns, he can hear Derek, Stiles, and Braeden talking. 

“What did he want?” Derek asks cautiously, his heart rate rising slightly. Braeden rubs Derek's back in attempts to soothe his distress about the matter. 

“I don’t know, I thought maybe you knew. I mean isn't he still in Eichen House?” 

"Who?" Stiles, Derek, and Braeden look towards to large door where Scott now stands. 

“Peter” Derek says.

“What did Peter do?”

Stiles glances between Derek and Scott. He wonders if he made a mistake talking to Derek first. “He called me.”

“What? When?”

“This morning at 2 AM.”

That night Stiles finds a missed call from the same number from which Peter had called him and he decides to try and call back but falls asleep whilst dialing the number. Maybe it was for the better that he didn't call Peter.

 

Stiles awakes to three missed calls from that same number. Frustrated with being so out control of such a simple situation, he decides take action and text Peter. 

10: 15 AM  
“What do you want Peter?” ~ S

10: 19 AM  
“You can’t just call me, hang up, call back again, and then not fucking pick up when I call, Peter!” ~ S

11: 00 AM  
“Peter!” ~ S

Stiles’ phone vibrates and rings as he is about to set it down, swear to never think about this again, and just go back to bed.

_“I told you, I just wanted to talk to someone and-“_

“Why me?”

 _"Pardon?_ ”

“Why me, Peter?”

_"Consider this for a second Stiles, who else am I going to call? Lydia? Scott? You said it yourself, I have caused too much harm for any of them to care about me. And that is with the false assumption that there was a time when they cared.”_

“What about Derek?”

" _Derek doesn't like me very much right now”_

“And I do?”

" _I...”_  Peter hesitates. Stiles can hear everything from the phone, he can hear the breathing, and the slightly wet sounds as Peter open his mouth and closes it again. He waits and when Peter’s response finally comes, it isn't what Stiles was expecting”.

" _I think you understand me, Stiles”_

“Okay, sure Peter” Stiles responds, making sure the sarcasm is apparent.

" _I think you understand what it is like to not have control. When Talia was still alive I was completely powerless, Stiles. She took things from me.”_

“You take things from people all the time Peter, don’t pretend-“

" _You understand what it is like to be powerless, then to have this dark overwhelming power where everyone fears and admires you”_

“I am not like you Peter, the nogistune-“

" _I didn't say you were”_

"Peter, you c-" Stiles' response is interrupted by a sharp knock on his bedroom door. 

“Hold on, Peter."                                                                                          

** ~.~ **

“Have you heard from Peter at all since that first night?” Scott asks, watching Stiles closely just in case he does not get a verbal answer. 

“No”

He isn't even surprised that he can now lie without his heartbeat giving him away. Peter has been calling him every night for last 4 weeks. They don’t really talk about much, sometimes Peter just asks to listen to Stiles talk about his day. He says it is better than remembering the things Dr. Valak showed him. He whispers about how it is better than constantly reliving the things Talia did, the memories she took away from him.

Stiles wants to tell Scott, but he feels as though telling him would be a betrayal to the little bit of trust Peter has put in him. A betrayal to the belief that because of what he has gone through, Stiles might be able to help.

** ~.~ **

_“Come over, Stiles”_

“No way, nope. That was not part of the deal, Peter!”

 _"Stiles”_  Peter tries again. His tone is calm and gentle as it always is, as it ways was when he talked to Stiles, even before Eichen House.

Stiles hangs up the phone quickly. He doesn't even know why he is still talking to Peter.                                                                                          

** ~.~ **

4:00 PM  
 _ **“Why are you asking me about it?” - L**_

 _4:04 PM_  
“I was wondering if you knew something, if your banshee senses were catching something...anything" - S

4: 06 PM  
 **“I mean, I can’t do anything like Meredith can. I can’t hear his thoughts or anything” - L**

4:10 PM  
“Okay” - S

4: 12 PM  
 **“Stiles, Peter is dangerous and you know this. Why are you even indulging him in this thing?” - L**

4: 14 PM  
“You didn't hear what he sounded like Lyds. It’s...he might understand” - S

4: 30 PM  
 _ **“Stiles... we understand” - L**_

4:32 PM  
“No, you sympathize. None of you understand” - S

4: 34 PM  
 ** _“What about me? I was walking around in the forest for days before you found me. Scott was that...that thing..." - L_**

5: 00 PM  
“Yes, but you never killed, you didn't lie, you didn't have to watch as you lied and tricked your family and friends. Doing that to the only people in world who trust you enough to let their guard down. You didn't kill, Lydia” - S

5:01 PM  
 _“_ **Fine! Call him back then if it helps, keep...keep talking to him"  - L**

_5: 14 PM_   
**"Stiles, do you want me to delete these texts?" - L**

5: 14 PM  
"What? Why?" - S

5:15 PM  
 ** _"I don't know. Have you told Scott about Peter?" - L_**

5: 20 PM  
"Delete the texts" - S

5:21 PM  
 _ **"Deleted" - L**_                                                                                                                                                                            

~.~ 

 _"Come over, Stiles”_  , Peter whispers. It is 3 in the morning and this is the sixth time Peter has said those words today, the 50th since they started talking all together.  
  
"No, Peter" 

_"I just wan-"_

"Over the phone, okay?" 

Stiles can hear Peter sigh deeply . " _You helped me and now I want to help you."_

"How?"

_"Stiles"_

"How?" Stiles repeats, adamant about having Peter say everything out loud.  
  
 _"I want to make you feel good. You are feeling bad right now and I want to make that go away"_

Stiles feels his stomach flip at the thought of Peter making everything go away. He is sure Peter is coming onto him in some 'let-us-fuck-because-it-is-therapeutic' kind of way, but he asks for clarification anyway.

"How do you want to make me feel good?" his voice is barely a whisper even though he is alone in the house.

_"Any way you want or need, Stiles."_

"Okay. Do you want me to say it out loud or do you already know?" Stiles asks hoping that Peter can tell just from his breathing the exact way he wants to be made to feel good. He can't even remember the last time he had an orgasm. 

_"I know. I can hear you, you know. I can hear the hitch in your breath when I say something that can be interpreted as mildly sexual. Are you hard?"_

With a sigh of relief at not having to say it out loud, Stiles answers. "Slightly, yes"

_"Good. Reach inside your pants and close your eyes for me"_

"Peter, that is stup-"

_"Don’t think about it, just...just do it”_

“Okay”                                                                                     

~.~ (1 month later)

2: 12 AM  
 _"Come over, Stiles" - PH_

2:13 AM  
"Peter, we've talked about this" - S

2: 17 AM  
 _"Come over. Please." - PH_

3:01 AM  
"Okay" - S

 


	3. I've grown to count on you.

Peter is leaning over the kitchen counter gripping the wine bottle when Stiles returns.   
“Peter” Stiles whispers and Peter’s fingers tighten a little too much, inevitably breaking the bottle. His palm, fingers and wrists are cut into and are bleeding. His senses are so sharply pointed to Stiles that he does even feel it. He is hyper aware of the little noises coming from Stiles, sweat pants rubbing at their intersection when he walks, his eyelashes making a light offbeat tapping when he blinks, and blinks and- then Peter’s ears are filled with the wet squish of Stiles’ tongue ghosting over his bottom lip. He pretends, he pretends he can’t hear these things, that Stiles hasn't magically become the epicenter of all his actions and thoughts. He straightens and glances up at Stiles then slowly smi

“Wine?” It sounds uncertain but when Stiles’ barks out a shocked laugh and then doubles over in a fit of chuckles, Peter relaxes. He is fine; he can feel his wolf relaxing as well, not so desperate to impress Stiles. His wolf backs off, trusting Peter to secure this, to keep his potential mate’s interests.

“Seriously Stiles, it is good to see loosen up. You are so calm and stiff. It is new”

“I know. I am a calm man now, Peter. Didn't you hear?” there so much humor in the statement Peter doesn't have to smell for it to know that the Stiles he used to know did not go anywhere.

“Oh?” Peter feigns as much disinterest as he can muster. He almost disagrees with Stiles on referring to himself as a ‘man’ but then he realizes he still doesn't know how old Stiles is now. He can see the five o'clock shadow on his face and he is both comforted by the fact that Stiles is now old enough for that to happen but is also distraught at how much time has passed.  

“Yes, I am. Can’t you tell?” Stiles’ smirk sends nervous excitement through him and his wolf might as well roll over and offer its belly for rubs. When did he get so out of control of his wolf? Fuck.  
He walks towards Stiles, playing along as he pretends to inspect this new found manliness in Stiles. As he nears, Stiles straightens, standing at full height which is about a 3 - 4 inches taller than he is. Stiles is taller than him. How did Peter not realize this? Was it the ill fitting clothing he used to wear? Could it even be the slumping and slouching? Stiles is stock still again, his chin tilted upwards as looks down at Peter over his upturned nose. It is a challenge and Peter is more than happy to step up and match the stance, moving close enough to have their chest bump with every inhale. They stay like that for a while and it is Stiles who breaks their eye contact. A small victory for Peter since he was the one cumming in his pants a few minutes ago right where they are standing.

"I'm tired, Peter. Let's go to bed, yeah?" 

"Sure" Peter can tell Stiles is not tired but he doesn't argue. He too needs the closeness that will come from sleeping in the same bed as Stiles. 

~.~

Stiles is lying stiffly in the bed with a very naked Peter and yeah, he has no idea what to do. Peter seems to always wait for him. He waits for Stiles to allow things, to accept things, to start things and it feels a little weird, but not in a bad way. He is used to being in somewhat charge since he helps out with the pack and their planning but this is a whole other thing. This is Peter. Peter bloody Hale! The dominant, previous Alpha, much older, much more sophisticated Peter Hale.

The room they are in is completely dark as per Peter’s doing. He’d closed all the blinds immediately after they’d walked claiming that he couldn't sleep with the all the light in the room. Stiles thinks he closed the blinds for another reason though, one he is not ready to bring up. They were supposed to be talking and if Peter is waiting for Stiles to start the conversation, then damn it he has to get himself together and start the conversation. He is about to start speaking when he is interrupted by Peter reaching out and tentatively touching his face. Stiles continues anyway.

“Are you always like that?” he whispers, like it is a secret, like they do over the phone.

“Like what?”

“Are you always that submissive with your partners?” Stiles can feel his heart beating in his ears as he speaks, he is trying to project confidence but what the hell is the point when Peter can hear his heart racing?

“No”

“Can...can you elaborate?”

“I was always the dominant one. That was just as strange for me as it was for you, believe me.” Peter signs as he moves closer to Stiles until his mouth is right against his ear.

“It wasn't strange, Peter. It was hot, so fucking -” his mumbles are cut off with the feeling of Peter’s hand on his cock. He was so caught in Peter’s closeness he didn't even realize he was hard.

“Fuck…” He wants to cum, he wants to lie there and just let Peter do what he has planned but something inside him tells him that neither he nor Peter will enjoy that very much. Because, even though Peter took initiative to touch him, he isn't doing much else, his breath is warm and heavy against Stiles’ neck, his whole front pressing against Stiles’ side. Glancing down, Stiles can see Peter’s blue eyes watching him. With a groan Stiles decides what that the hell, there is always time to regret this later but now is not the time.

“Wrap your fingers around my cock, wolf” and Peter immediately does it. His lashes are fluttering now and he is minutely rubbing against Stiles’ thigh. Stiles can tell he likes being called that, he can tell that he is dying for some stimulation but he does nothing. From the corner of his eye, Stiles spots Peter’s other hand opening and closing, sharp claws sticking out. The idea alone of an out of control Peter should scare Stiles, but it doesn't. It doesn't, because  **he**  doesn't feel out of control of Peter. 

“Tighter, Peter. Come on...use your strength”. Peter does just that and is rewarded with a low moan from Stiles. Peter seems to be putting all of his brain and physical power towards making Stiles come, his brow is furrowed, his face, chest and ears are pink and it makes Stiles want to reward his effort. “Good boy. Your hand feels so fucking good, pet. Go ahead, hump my leg.”

~.~

Those words almost do Peter in. It shouldn't feel as good, as thrilling, and relieving as it does to let go and give Stiles the reigns. To give Stiles the power to stimulate, humiliate, and push him around. It shouldn't but it does, and he finds himself rubbing the head of his cock furiously through the hairs on Stiles’ thigh. Stiles’ hand is covering his, moving it like he needs, because Peter has lost all coordination from how intensely his orgasm is coming on. Stiles flings his other arm across Peter’s back. His fingers move to roughly pull Peter in by the hair like had done earlier, and just like before, it makes Peter whine and whimper like it is all too much.

Peter can hardly feel his hand from how tightly Stiles is holding it against his cock and it becomes too much when Stiles yanks his head back and kisses him.

Peter comes first again and this time Stiles doesn't run. He arches forward, planting feet, holding Peter’s slackened hand on his cock in both of his, and squeezes his own cock even more, thrusting into their air tight grip.

“You feel so good, wolf. The best fuck I've ever had…”

Peter can hear Stiles whispering endearments and praises and it feels good. It feels like he is doing something important. It feels good to be the one to bring Stiles to this place of strength and power. It feels good to be the one to wind him up, to be the one he chooses to use. When Stiles finally comes all over their joined hands, he immediately brings their hands to Peter’s mouth. Peter gives himself over to his wolf as he eagerly laps up the come on their fingers, almost purring as he rubs himself all over Stiles, marking him with their sweat and cum. It feels good.

~.~  
Stiles gets a text from Peter the day he returns home a midst having dinner with his dad. 

10: 27 PM  
 _"Is that how tightly you hold yourself every time you wank. Do you always like it like that?" ~ PH_

 _10: 30 PM_  
"Yes, it is. I'm sorry about your hand btw. Also, I didn't mean to call you 'boy' again, I may have gotten carried away. I don't even know if you like that stuff or anything" ~ S

10: 30 PM  
 _"It is fine, Stiles. It was good. Is it the pressure or the pain that gets you off?" ~ PH_

10: 31 PM  
"The pain. Always." ~ S

"Is that the person you spent the last two days with?" Stiles' dad asks, bringing Stile's thought back to the present.

"Umm, yeah, dad. He...he is" Stiles pushes his chair back and starts helping with the clean up.

"Do you treat him right?" 

"What? Seriously, Dad?!" Because really, Stiles had had the sex talk twice with his dad. Once when his dad found out he liked Lydia, and then again when he found out he like boys. 

"It is a serious question, Stiles" Sheriff Stilinski frowns. 

"Yeah, I...I try. Yeah."

"Does he treat you right?"

"To the best of his abilities. Yes, I think he does."

 

 


	4. Command me to be well.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11 months before chapter 1:
> 
> Scott confronts Stiles about the changes he has seen in him.

Scott knows he has to talk to Stiles about this. He knows that he needs to talk to Stiles about this for the sake of their friendship and not having anymore secrets between them, but also because his moods are starting make the pack anxious.

“I just thought I’d tell you about it, he just does not smell like himself”. Liam is the first one to mention it; it seems his sense of smell is more attuned to the change in Stiles because he is the least familiar with the new scent on Stiles.

“I know”. Scott neglects to tell him that most of what Liam is smelling is sex. It is remnants of arousal and sex. The medicine Stiles takes often distorts his smell and so Liam is unable to detect the same smell he often smells wafting off of Derek and Braeden.    
“I will talk to him, okay?”. Scott hugs the younger wolf, patting his back a couple of times. He presses his fingers against the back of Liam's neck and then makes his way to Stiles’. His mind on the way to Stiles’ is filled with questions he wants to ask. He feels a bit on edge because out of all of people in his pack, human and were, Stiles is the least affected by his authority. It is hard to take care of someone that for a long time took care of you. It is even harder he imagines, for Stiles to see him as any form of authority figure the way that being a wolf makes Liam see him. Because to be fair, he was there when Scott was scared of the dark and would have asthma attacks. So even though he wants to be able to tell Stiles what he can and cannot do out of the burning to need to protect his pack, he has to take the friend approach to this. He has to ask questions, wait for an answer and then try to be supportive. Usually Stiles dating would not be as problematic, except along with the smell of arousal and sex, Stiles smells like distress, shame, and guilt.

He dismounts his bike, removes his helmet, and makes his way towards to door. From the cruiser in lot, Scott can tell that the sheriff is home, but he is still surprised when John is the one who lets Scott in, instead of Stiles.

“He is still sleeping, he was away for a couple of nights but I am sure you already know that, son” The sheriff smiles a tight smile that Scott knows is emblematic of the hard day he has had. His eyes are still as warm and welcoming as ever. He is still the closest thing to a father- figure Scott has. Rafa was far too late in coming back and when Scott looks back into his past, it John Stilinski he remembers not his real father.

“Of course!”. Scott lies because Stiles hasn't really talked to them since he sent out a mass text to the entire pack saying he would be busy and away from home for a few days. They all just assumed he needed some space but this was the second time it had happened. The first time being the one where he came back smelling like sex.

Scott knocked on the door and waited for Stiles to answer. He knocks because he can hear people moaning, he thinks at first it is Stiles, but when he listens closer he can hear the light high pitched static that emits from speakers that only dogs and weres usually hear.

So he pushes the door open not wanting to catch Stiles wanking but thinking it would be hilarious to see the look of surprise on Stiles’ face.

Stiles is sleeping when he enters. He is barely covered where he lies sloppily on the bed. One of his hands is under pillow supporting his head while the other barely holds a phone in its grip. He is sleeping heavily, facing away from the door with the laptop still streaming the gay porn that is barely audible to human ears.

Stiles’ body is the next thing Scott notices, the back of his neck, his back and his uncovered ass are marked by purple and yellow finger and palm shaped bruises. For some reason Scott feels like he is invading Stiles’ privacy at the moment. He feels as though if Stiles were to wake up right now, he would be uncomfortable with Scott seeing his body like this. So he turns around and makes his way downstairs to order a couple of pizzas for himself and Stiles like they usually do.  
His face must not be looking as calm as he feels once he get down to the kitchen, because the Sheriff chuckles lightly and from the living room chair and says “So you've just seen the marks?”.  
Scott’s head whips in his direction, having not expected John bring that up. He is surprised.

“I asked him about them, you know?” John adds.

“Yeah? What did he say?”

“He said it was a sex thing, it was consensual and he was in complete control of everything. Which was far more than I was prepared to hear, but it is better than what I’d been thinking before I guess?”

**  
2 hours later **

They eat, play video games and talk about the pack way before Scott brings up that he knows that Stiles is seeing someone. It takes this long mostly because Scott is still trying to pinpoint the familiar scent tangled in with Stiles. 

“Stiles?”

“Yeah, bro?”

“Talked to your dad” Scott sets down the game controller and turns to face Stiles.  Stiles had long pulled on a pair of boxers and sweatpants but his torso was still bare. His left wrist encircled by the thick black string that was not there last week.

“Okay.” Stiles turns as well, a smile on his face, he is looking at Scott directly in the eyes. “What’s up, what did you talk about?”

“He seemed to be big time traumatized by your little talk about the marks on your back”. He chuckles trying to lighten the mood, Stiles has been pulling further and further away lately and he needs to tread lightly. He feels a little uncertain but is relieved when Stiles lets out a loud laugh.

“I know! You should have seen his face!”

“So is that, what...what you are into now?”

“Scott” Stiles is shaking his head with a smile, as though he can't believe Scott is really wanting to know about his sex life.

“No, no, I mean like, do you remember when we were younger, we talked about this and you said you were more proactive and you like to…” Scott mimes bound wrists with hands because he doesn't know what words to use. He doesn't want to say dominate because when they had the conversation they were about 17 and they had not put words or names to it just yet. Scott had nodded and shared what he and Alison were doing, comparing notes with Stiles even though they didn't approach sex and sexuality the same way.

“It’s always been there Scott; this is just the first time you've had physical evidence of it” Stiles laughs, bumping shoulders with Scott. 

Scott smiles along, he doesn't know how to ask this, so he just blurts out, “He or she?”. He isn't intending to push but if Stiles won’t come with it then Scott will have to.

Stiles fidgets about a little, rearranging his body so that his is laying on the bed with his arms behind head. Scott follows his movements and can see bite and suction marks under his arm and near his pectoral muscle. He studies them for a minute before realizing they lead into the fuzzy crevice of Stile’s armpit.

“He” Stiles adds, wrapping his leg around Scott’s waist and pulling his down on the bed to give him a noogie. Stiles hasn't even realized that Scott was blatantly staring at the marks of his body, he is merely enjoying the company of his best friend. And usually Scott would laugh along before shoving Stiles away and lightly punching his arm, but now, he finds himself still, his heart racing.  He sniff Stiles, breathing in and realizing that from this close, he can tell exactly who Stiles smells like.

“Stiles. We should talk” Scott tries to pull away.

“What about? I thought we were already talking?” He laughs ruffling Scott’s hair as he leans up with his back to the headboard.

“You smell like Peter, Stiles”

The mood changes so drastically it is almost as if they had not been laughing and joking a couple of seconds ago.

“Is he the guy?”. Scott is trying to not sound judgmental because this is Stiles, but fuck, he is glad Stiles can’t smell him. He knows if he could, he would be able to smell the anger, betrayal, and frustration.

“Yup.” There is a loud emphasis on 'p' but Stiles does not elaborate.

“Help me out here, Stiles. I mean...I am just trying to know, you know? If you don’t want me to know just, say so”

“He likes me” Stiles says lowly. His fingers are fiddling with the string on his wrist as he says this.

“Yeah? Has he...has he told you?”

“Yeah.”

“You like him too?”

“I think so, I...don’t really trust him though”

“Mmmh. You tell him that?” Scott nods, he is glad they agree on something.

“Yup”. Stiles reaches for his phone, his fingers flying over the screen before he tosses it to Scott.

Scott glances down at the texts there and begins to read. The texts are dated to almost 3 months ago he realizes, but quickly decides to keep his surprise himself. 

2: 20 AM   
 _“Are you interested, then? It seems pretty clear what I am proposing here.” -PH_

2:20 AM  
“I am not just going to sleep with you, Peter. Doesn't work that way” - S

2: 22 AM  
 _“How does it work then? Must I wine and dine you?” - PH_

2: 22 AM  
“Maybe. I am a classy lady, you know!” - S

2: 24 AM  
 _“Oh! Forgive me, me lady! *removes hat and bows* May I request that you accompany me to my chamber?” - PH_

2: 25 AM  
“Haha! Phone sex only! I am still a virtuous lady!” - S

2: 25 AM  
 _“A virtuous lady that proposes exchanging dirty heady texts with a much older man she fancies. Thrilling!” - PH_

2: 29 AM  
“I never said I fancied you.” - S

2: 32 AM  
 _“Well, I do you” - PH_

2: 32 AM  
“I don’t trust you” - S

2: 32 AM  
 _“You don’t have to, darling. Besides, I am sure it is part of my appeal to you.” - PH_

 

“Mmh...He sounds different. But I guess he didn't talk like that to any of us because he wasn't trying to fuck or date us, but also he was a bit power crazy back then. He still like that?” Scott tosses the phone back to Stiles and relaxes a little. Stiles’ and Peter’s interactions are weirdly normative.

 Stiles laughs again and nods his head. He reaches under his arm to press against the bite marks as he speaks. "The focus has changed a bit but it is still there, I suppose".  It is strange to see Stiles go from completely stiff to loose and laughing. He used to fidget so much more before.

 His phone goes off and he picks up, again stiffening up, jerking straight and his face growing serious.

“Scott is here”, is his first response. He is looking right in Scott's direction, but almost through his him. His are eyes glazed, his full attention is on the person on the other side of the call.

Scott can faintly hear what sounds like Peter's voice on the other end saying,  _“I am not going to say anything”_

“Okay. Everything okay?”

 _“I’ll text you”, a_ nd the line goes dead.

Stiles smiles at Scott again and drops his phone as he grabs a couple of clothes. “Got to piss and shower, but I’ll be back to hang in a minute. It’s almost time to go to the pack meeting anyway. Also, I might be going to see Peter after, just don't tell the pack yet, okay?" 

“Yeah sure, bro”

Stiles leaves the phone as he makes his way to the bathroom. It is close enough to Scott that he can see the text that comes in.

 _“I realized I was acting all wrong. I think I was sick, but I loved it. Command me to be well.” - PH ._ Attached is a picture of Peter's neck and bare shoulders, a dark piece of string like the one on Stile's wrist surrounding his neck. 

For some reason Peter's and Stiles' closeness seems to bother Scott after seeing the text. It makes him feel uneasy even though he doesn't understand Peter's words.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next 2 weeks: Stay here and frighten me.
> 
> Stiles can hear a few of the pack members growling and he is sure it makes Peter uneasy. He is only here because Stiles told him they would be accepting. That they would treat him like Pack. They had promised.  
> 


	5. I long to be alone with you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles can hear a few of the pack members growling and he is sure it makes Peter uneasy. He is only here because Stiles told him they would be accepting. That they would be treat him like Pack. They had promised.

Stiles is awoken by the footsteps in his room. To be fair he heard them all the way from the hallway. He knows from the heavy thud on the carpeted floors that it is Scott, whose thick riding boots usually gave him away. The thing about spending so much time with weres when you didn't have supernatural powers is that you have to train your body to pick on the things the wolves did naturally. In the beginning Stiles felt inadequate as Scott’s powers and abilities grew. Stiles constantly struggled to find his place in their friendship. He knew was good at research and so he dove into that, because if Scott was going to be stronger, and have heightened senses, then Stiles would have to have to play up his strengths as well.

Scott was in his room now; he could feel the heat of his glare on his back, his fingers, and his even his ass, but he didn't move. It wasn't hard to stay still anymore. None of the pack knew it, but he had learned a lot from the nogitsune possession. He didn't need to move so much to get attention. He didn't need the jokes. He didn’t need the adderall. He was even content with his chaotic mind because he had learned to appreciate and gain power from chaos.

He lay still and wondered why Scott had not yet said anything since it had been at least 5 minutes since he had walked in. 

~.~

 The pack meeting hadn't really lasted that long. Derek had expressed concern about the dark elf that had made its presence known to them, and they had brain stormed what it might have wanted. They knew nothing and so Stiles gave himself the task of researching and maybe even bating the elf to interact with them. By then, the pack meeting had ended and Stiles made his way to Peters.

A lot had changed between himself and Peter since three weeks ago when he’d first gone to see him. He had only been in Peter’s apartment three times in those three weeks but that too felt like a big step. He wanted to trust Peter as Peter seemed to trust him, but it almost felt inauthentic to be completely at ease around Peter. It may even insult him. Stiles walked down the hallway, stood outside the door and waited. This had become a ritual of theirs. He didn't invade Peter’s home with his presence at any and all times. They had decided that if Peter did not open door within a minute of Stiles being there, then Stiles would always let himself in.

It wasn't long before Stiles was turning the knob and entering the dimly lit living room. Peter was lounging on the couch set, his eyes glued to the door, and then to Stiles when he entered. It was almost amusing how obvious it was that he was holding himself back. His fingers were clutching the arms of the chair, his body too still to be natural. His nostrils too were flaring as he took in obnoxiously loud breaths. He desperately wanted to smell Stiles. He wanted to make sure it was Stiles. He didn't trust that this was Stiles and in a way, trusting Stiles probably felt awkward to him as well.

Taking pity on the wolf, Stiles makes his way to the couch, watching the way Peter tenses with every step they took. He knows he is standing at his full height. He knows his fingers are clenching and unclenching. He knows that even though he is trying to be joyful and project the old Stiles everyone used to know. He also knows that all Peter can see is void Stiles. He knows that the stillness that now comes naturally to him is too unfamiliar to others. He knows that smirk on his face is too dark for comfort.

“Relax, wolf” he says as he moves into Peter’s personal space. Lifting one leg and then the other, casually straddling Peter’s spread thighs.

**~**

Peter can hardly breathe. He knows this is Stiles testing him. He wants to see what he will do. To be honest, Peter wants to get up and scent him. He wants to change his smell from the likes of Scott and the pack; he people that put him away, to himself.  He doesn't want Stiles, to smell like anyone but him. Stiles’ body is on him now, arms and legs caging him. He moves even closer, scooting forward until his chest is pressed against Peter’s nose. Not knowing if he will be allowed to actually do this later, Peter takes the opportunity to sniff and scent Stiles. He lifts his hands from the chair to encircle Stiles’ waist. Almost like he knows, Stiles presses even closer. With one hand off of the back of the chair and into Peter’s hair, Stiles fists and yanks it back until they are making eye contact. Peter strains to keep his composure because he can’t really give in too easily, he can’t be the one cumming in his pants like an inexperienced teen every time. It just isn't fair. He tries but he can’t keep his breaths from deepening, his mouth is slightly open, and his breaths coming out in pants. He seems to be the only one making any noise. Stiles is so fucking still. His heartbeat is even, his fingers sure, and his gaze is unrelenting. His control over his own body is what has Peter almost tipping over the edge. They stay like that for a few minutes and it is almost as though they aren't going to do anything else that night. Peter finds that even if they just stare at each other until Stiles leaves, he doesn't mind.  
  
Just as he is finding his calm in that idea, Stiles’ other hand leaves the couch and disappears between their bodies. Peter’s gaze tries to follow the hand but it is quickly pulled back by a sharp tug of hair. He can hear Stiles unbuckling his belt, his long dexterous fingers unbuttoning, unzipping, and pushing the fabric aside until they grasp and take his cock out. Again he presses closer. If Peter was human, Stiles weight on his chest and sternum would have made it impossible to breathe. Peter can feel Stiles hips begin to move. He can feel the steady thrusting against the rough fabric of his Henley. He can feel the outline of Stiles’ hard cock against his chest as Stiles fucks into him. He wants to offer more just in case. He wants Stiles to take more if he wants. He decides to go with it.

“Do you want my -”

“Shut up” Stiles whispers, cutting him off. And he does, he shuts up. This is not the time to talk, he figures. He realizes that Stiles is giving him want he usually feels guilty about doing. With the silence, Stiles is allowing Peter to let go and let his wolf out. To let himself get to a place where language is useless, where the body and his wolfish whines and whimpers are not a sign of weakness but strength.  
Stiles pushes on Peter’s shoulders, forcing him to sink lower into the chair. He knows what Peter was proposing and he wants that, he want to fuck Peter’s mouth. He wants to push into him and force that slight panic that comes with not being able to breathe out of him. But he wants to do it at his own time.

Peter still doesn't hear a single noise from Stiles, whose eyes are still unblinking and intensely focused on Peter. His face is blank as his hips pick up pace and force. 'He is fucking me', Peter’s realizes. Peter is being fucked and it isn't even for his own pleasure. A loud groan escapes from Peter’s mouth at the thought and Stiles takes advantage of his open mouth. He quickly swipes the head of his cock with two fingers and places them on Peter’s tongue.

“Suck me”. Peter immediately closes his mouth around his long fingers and sucks. Stiles guides him by the hair as he moves Peter’s head and mouth onto his fingers.

“That's good. Keep doing it like that”, Stiles whispers as he moves forward even more, and yeah, it is beginning to hurt. The pressure on his chest, the fingers in mouth; Peter’s lungs are burning for a proper breath that Stiles won’t allow him to have.

Peter feels a hand apply pressure against his shoulder and again he shuffles his feet forward, lowering his body further into a deep slouch. Stiles’ cock is pushing against his exposed neck now, the blunt head knocking against his Adam’s apple. Of all the experiences Peter has, he has never experienced anything like this and the fact that this young lanky man is making his feel this way is so fucking erotic. Stiles pulls Peter’s head forward to rub his cock directly against the side of Peter’s face. At this, Peter's wolf preens itself because for the first time that night Stiles is moaning.  He is panting, his fingers tightening in Peter’s hair as he rubs against the blushing face. Peter can actually hear it. He can hear the soft scraping sound that is coming from Stiles’ cock rubbing against the sharp spikes of his stubble. He can feel the precum smearing against his cheek, his mouth, and in his hair.

Stiles pushes his fingers back into Peter’s mouth to hold it open as he pulls back.  
“Make me cum in your mouth, boy”, he pants and Peter’s groans. Peter is equal parts embarrassed and aroused as he takes Stiles’ cock in both hands. He remembers what Stiles likes and uses his strength to apply pressure and hold the hard cock against his outstretched tongue.  Stiles' thrusts become more powerful and urgent the tighter Peter’s fingers squeeze and Peter can’t get enough of it. He can feel his body begin to shake. He can feel the overwhelming heat and ache in his bones as his wolf scratches from the excitement of pleasuring Stiles. Peter is shifting. He can feel his canines extending, his brow and ears changing form, and knows he can’t stop it. Immediately, Stiles lets go of Peter’s mouth and hair to grasp at his newly pointed ears.  
“You’re so hot like this, Peter. My fucking wolf...All mine”. Peter leans in a little and wildly flicks his tongue against the head of Stiles’ cock. Peter soon feels Stiles’ hips stutter off rhythm as cum shoots into his mouth and onto his cheeks and chin. 

~.~  
It is a few hours since the incident on the couch and Peter is making dinner for the both of them.

“Scott confronted me about us”. This doesn’t really a surprise to Peter. He knows that Scott was bound the find out eventually.

“Is that so? And what did you tell him?”, Peter asks as he occasionally turns around to look at Stiles from where he is on the other end of the kitchen.

“I was pretty fucking vague about it to be honest. I showed him some of our texts”. Hearing this, Peter stops stirring the sauce momentarily. He isn't sure if he is completely comfortable with Stiles showing Scott exactly what they say to each other but he is also uncertain about what he can and cannot have a say on with their new change in relationship dynamic. In the end he says nothing in hopes that Stiles can read his body language enough to know to clarify. To his relief, Stiles continues talking.

“They were from a few months ago. They were playful and silly.” Stiles moves from where he is leaning against the counter to wrap his arms around Peter’s waist. He runs his palms against Peter’s chest and stomach, and presses in, encouraging Peter to lean back against his chest. Peter continues stirring even though the food is pretty much done. It is still so shocking every time he is reminded that Stiles is taller than he is.

“They weren't personal, or even erotic. Don’t worry”, Stiles adds, his lips ghosting over Peter’s ear as he talks.

“I don’t worry”

“No?” Stiles' tone is playful and is an interesting contrast to Peter's tense one. Peter wonders if it will always be like that.

“No.”

“Good”

“I just think that you do not owe him an explanation.  You shouldn’t feel like you have to explain us to Scott or any of the others”. Peter adds as he transfers the food from the pots onto the plates and then leans back until Stiles lets go of him.

“Scott is my best friend, Peter and that has to mean something. And the pack is...just that”, Stiles reasons. 

“I know. Except, they never did respect you, S”

“Like you respect me, you mean?”. Stiles laughs and shoves Peter’s shoulder playfully. He means it to a playful jab at how Peter used to treat him and his friends before he was put away but Peter doesn't think it is funny that Stiles is not getting the respect he deserves.

“Yes.” He responds, stopping to look right into Stiles’ eyes that are now bouncing all over Peter’s face.

“A bit biased coming from you now, wouldn't you say?” He chuckles again and it is starting to frustrate Peter.

“Even before...before any of this. I respected you, S. You are smart and cunning. You outsmart all the supernatural beings. You outsmart all of them and the only time they ever saw you true potential and power, was when you were possessed by the Nogitsune. You were so strong and confident. But even, now that you are back to ‘you’, you still have those qualities within. I see them when you fuck me. I saw them when you gave me this", Peter hooks his finger into the black string around his neck. "You were the first person I offered the bite to. That just doesn't happen.”

“But you bit Scott”, Stiles argues. 

“It was a mistake. I meant to bite you”

“Oh!”

Peter tentatively sets the plates down and walks towards Stiles. He reaches for Stiles’ left arm, his fingers encircling the string around Stiles wrist as he leads the fingers to hook into the matching yarn string around his neck. Their faces are close together with their foreheads touching.

“I respect you, Krzysztof”. 

Peter states and it feels like he is saying so much more than the words he is using. When they are together like this, Peter doesn't bother calling him Stiles, because everyone calls him that. They never bothered to learn how to say his polish name properly. They never bothered. They never saw it as something of importance, and when Peter saw Stiles’ driver’s license a few days ago, he demanded that he be taught how to say it well and how to say it with respect. Stiles’ gladly taught him with his only stipulation being that he was to refer to him as Stiles in front of other people.

“I have and will always respect you, Krzysztof”. Peter whispers and the room suddenly feels smaller, the air thinner, and even his body feels lighter as Stiles roughly palms his dick. Stiles’ tugs and twists the string as he pulls Peter in for a fierce dominating kiss. His mouth and tongue taking and reinforcing what Peter is implying with their hands and the name. His actions reinforcing that he is important, in charge, and deserving of Peter’s respect and submission.

It feels as though his hands are everywhere on Peter’s body, down his chest, up his back and down again to tightly grip and kneed his arse.

“Fuck, Krzys. I want to cum”. Peter ruts against Stiles' palm with more desperation because he has not been allowed to cum yet.  
With a show of strength that knocks the breath of out Peter, Stiles lifts Peter by the arse and quickly walks towards to the wall. This is it. Peter feels alive and present and so fucking excited that he can empower Stiles. That he can give him this space to just be himself at his most powerful. He wraps his legs around his Stiles’ waist and thrusts against his stomach. It feels so good. No one has ever done this for Peter. No one has ever lifted and supported Peter like he weighed nothing, like he wasn't more powerful, like he deserved to be taken care of.

Stiles pulls at the front of Peter’s trousers and Peter feels compelled to let him know that this, just this is enough.

“I can come like this...I’m good” he pants, leaning his entire weight on Stiles, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck and his hips picking up pace. Peter is bucking erratically and Stiles doesn’t even falter. He is so fucking strong.

He licks his fingers and then pushes his hand into the back of Peter’s sweats as he nods. “I know you are. You can come like this, can’t you, wolf?”  
The sound of Stiles’ voice is almost enough to knock Peter over the edge. Whenever they are together like this, Stiles voice gets rough and deep, and when he groans like he is doing now, Peter’s whimpers morph to growls, and grunts, and pants, and back to whimpers.  
  
“I can, Kryzs...I can” he confirms, tightening his grip with his legs and arms. He can feel it leaving burns on Stiles’ skin but he doesn't care. He doesn't care because Stiles’ wet fingers are now rubbing rhythmically against his arsehole and it is making him burn with pleasure.  
  
“You know exactly how to make me happy. Don’t you, Pet?”, and Peter can only nod  fiercely with his face buried into Stiles’ neck. He silently begs for something his wolf needs desperately. He needs to bite and mark Stiles. He knows it would send him over the edge but he doesn't know how to ask for it. Stiles chuckles, knowing exactly what Peter is trying to do. He lifts his head slightly to allow Peter to burrow deeper into his neck.  
“Mark me!” he demands and Peter comes. He latches onto Stiles with his teeth until he can taste blood. Somewhere in his mind he is sure he should be worried about this, but he it doesn't register because Stiles is thrusting back and cumming along with him. Stiles needs it too.

 

**~**

Stiles sets Peter down with a silly grin because yeah, even he didn't see that show of strength coming. He laughs a bit, hoping Peter will understand, and when Peter joins in, they lean against each other reveling in the feeling of excitement and unrestrained emotion flowing through them at the moment.

“We need to eat”. He finally says while Peter pulls him back to the sink to get a couple of wipes to clean them up.

Peter merely nods as he pulls at the waist of the sweats Stiles borrowed to gently clean him up. He squats, taking the boxer briefs and sweatpants with him, folding his underwear once they are off, and redressing Stiles in just the sweats. He repeats the motion on himself with more speed and then moves to the food. It is still quite warm they find, so they dig in and chat mindlessly about Peter’s cooking skills. 

Stiles hasn't even set his fork down after he has finished eating when his phone goes off. He reaches for it and swipes the screen to the right.

“What’s up?”. It is Scott.

“Hey, there is going to be an emergency meeting. There is more than one dark elf in Beacon hills and Deaton called about meeting.”

“Right now?” Stiles asks, because he doesn't want to do this right now. He and Peter are in a good place right now. None of them have dealt with the PTSD from their past in a while and he worries that by him going back into fighting supernatural creatures everything will be unearthed for one of them.

“I know, bro...I know you are with Peter and everything, but...you can bring him if you want. You know that.” Scott sounds uncertain, he sounds like he doesn't even believe his own words.

“Are you with the pack?”

“I came with Liam, and called you, Liam called Derek, and Braeden called everyone else. We all on our way”

“Okay. Give me a few and then tell the pack. I don’t want any shit for this right now”

“Yeah, okay.” At that, Stiles hangs up the phone. Peter is standing still, watching Stiles with the plates still piled up in his hands.

“You heard it all?” Stiles asks because it would be quite condescending to repeat it to Peter. Peter nods, but he is still not moving otherwise.

“Do you want to go?”. Peter moves then, walking to sink to set the plates down and run the water. A couple of seconds pass as he starts to wash the dishes. Stiles knows Peter is not ignoring him and is merely thinking about it. Stiles knows how Peter feels about Scott. They had talked about it.

“I’ll go early, I’ll be there when Scott tells the pack and then I’ll text you. If you want you want to come after that….” Stiles offers, he is trying to be accommodating but he also does not want Peter to stay here, he wants to continue being around him for the entire night.

“I’ll see.”

 ~.~

When Stiles gets to Derek’s loft, he finds that the pack is already there. Kira, Scott, Liam, Derek, Braeden, Lydia, and Parrish, are in a circle. They immediately stop talking and jerk their heads to look at Stiles. Stiles makes his way inside the loft, walking directly towards to the circle. No one says anything until Satomi’s pack growls from behind Stiles.

“Peter and I are seeing each other, okay? Is it serious? Maybe. Does it concern any of you? Not really. Especially not you” He points at the pack behind him without even looking.

“We talked about it, we promise to at least not vocalize our....displeasure if it exists” Derek adds, he is not the person Stiles expects to speak up, but he goes with it anyway.

They talk strategy for a while, Stiles does a quick search on dark elves to add to what they missed in the bestiary, and finds some interesting facts that he then shares with the packs before sending Peter a text. To his surprise Peter shows up very soon after that. Stiles leaves the loft to go down stairs to meet him.  
“Are you good?” he questions as leans in for a kiss, lightly tugging the string collar around Peter’s neck. Peter doesn't answer but smirks instead. He is good.

They make their way up the stairs and into the loft. Even before Stiles is completely inside the loft he can hear some member of his and Satomi’s pack growling. He is sure it makes Peter uneasy. He is only here because Stiles told him they would be accepting and that they would treat him like Pack. They had promised. This is a sour spot for Peter and if the packs are not going be receptive, then he and Peter don't need to be here.

 Peter sidesteps Stiles, momentarily hooking his pinky finger into the string on Stiles wrist as he makes his way to the couch. He looks so fucking smug. His body is relaxed and confident, his chest filling with each breath he takes. Everyone hates the way it looks like he doesn't care. Stiles used to hate it as well, but now he knows better. Now he knows that when Peter looks like this, it is when he is most nervous and most vulnerable. He watches as Peter plops down on the couch where Derek and Braeden are now sitting and reaches out to give Derek a hug. Derek hugs him back shocking everyone but Stiles, Peter, and Braeden. Derek was the only person who went to visit Peter at Eichen House and Braeden, being the one that encouraged him to do so, gets a smile and a light kiss on the check from Peter.

Stiles slides the loft door closed goes back to researching. He knows that if the pays too much attention to Peter, Peter will feel babied and only move further away. He feels oddly protective of him though, so he keeps an eye out as the pack spends most of their time sniffing Peter. Having talked about it, Stiles knows that they can smell the grief, pain, and betrayal that has was awoken and compounded upon when he was locked away. They seem to calm and settle slightly at the knowledge.

 

Deaton shows up about an hour later. The Pack is still talking strategy so no one is really paying attention until they hear a growl that turns vicious as Peter extends his claws and runs straight for Deaton.

"PETER, NO!! 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH!!!! Le DRAMA!


	6. The Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know what I think about this. Their infantile refusal to understand your complexities and intelligence is getting dangerous-”  
> “Peter”, Stiles doesn't want to talk about this right now. He doesn't want to agitate Peter further with the reminder that all of their lives were saved by the fact that out of the 20 plus people in the room only Peter listened to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh! Sorry about the delay. Real life gets in the way of everything sometimes.

It all happened so fast. He’d seen the look on Peter’s face. He had seen Peter look right at him for a split second like he needed permission to act. He might not have heightened senses of sound and smell but he knew Peter. He understood what their relationship had meant to Peter and what Peter would do before he did anything.  
He is so attuned to Peter that he can hear is light footsteps as he runs towards Deaton. His arms and legs flex as they propel him into a leap. He almost freezes mid air before he swings his right hand back and lands with the slash to Deaton’s tender neck. Landing as Deaton drops as well.  
“Peter! Peter! NO!”

Stiles can hear Scott yelling at Peter as he runs forward. He sounds like he chastising Peter, like he is going to punish Peter and for a split second he thinks Peter is going to run. His last violent interaction with Scott had left him hurt and imprisoned, but Peter’s head jerks back and he makes eye contact with Stiles. His eyes questioning and Stiles tries to communicate that Peter needs to stay. That He has to be the Peter he used to be. Fearless.  
  
The pack is growling and jumping for Peter before Stiles can even move. The betas grab Peter and shove him into the wall, forcing him to stay still and face their Alpha. Only Braeden and Derek have yet to move. Stiles can see them in his periphery when he feels himself begin to yell.  
  
“SCOTT! STOP IT!” The betas turn towards Stiles their eyes glowing as they growl at him for challenging their alpha.  
“Look!” Stiles moves to grab the dead body and pulling the head straight off the body. They all watch as ‘Deaton's body is covered with a dark mist until he morphs into a tall grey bodied elf with fluorescent nails, eyes, and hair.  
“He didn't kill Deaton, okay? Let him go!”  
  
Scott looks lost, stuck between wanting to be loyal to his best friend and protecting his betas. Stiles doesn't agitate that understanding how important this moment is. He looks straight at Peter who is plastered against the wall behind the pack. The betas are still posturing for aggression but it doesn't matter. If Scott doesn't want them to do anything, they won’t do a thing. Peter’s eyes are the only sign that he is even distressed. Their bright blue is piercing when his eyes meet Stiles’. “Come here”, Stiles gestures, his arms slightly open and inviting. Peter doesn't move though, everyone is watching them and Stiles has to choose his words carefully. They had talked about this. In public, Stiles was not talk to Peter like he does when they were alone. He was not to treat Peter as though he had any feelings other than desire, hate, and vengeance. Placing his arms down, Stiles adjusts his body, moving lower into his usual slouch, consciously flicking his fingers to make it appear as though he is twitching. He takes a couple of more deep breaths and pulls at his shirt, he can tell that the more he fidgets the more comfortable everyone looks and thus the more comfortable Peter feels. He watches as Peter pushes away from the wall, side steps the pack, and ‘confidently’ strides towards him. Stiles knows. Peter hasn't come this close to a panic attack since they started talking. But they pretend. It seems as though they were fated to pretend. However, none of that seems to matter when Peter wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist and hugs him close. Stiles runs his fingers through Peter’s hair and encourages him to nuzzle deeper into his neck.  
  
To the packs it may look like Peter is comforting Stiles and not the other way around. It looks like he scenting him, reaffirming him, reassuring him of his safety. Stiles knows better, his fingers slide down to the makeshift yarn collar around Peter’s neck to try and ground Peter who has began to shake like he can’t hold his wolf in anymore. He can feel the stares. Everyone is watching what his hands are doing. They are slowly making the connection that the string around Peter’s neck is similar to the one around Stiles' wrist. Most of them are confused by it for sure, but still, he hates that they are being turned into a fucking spectacle, so he makes a joke to deflect. “Do you guys also want to watch me suck his dick? Jeez, watching so intently! Have you no shame?”  
  
With that the packs relax, they move forwards glancing at Scott with light chuckles. Scott does laugh along though. He doesn't join in because he knows what is truly going on. He knows Stiles and therefore, he can infer as to what is going on with Peter.  
Scott moves too, right behind his pack as they near Stiles and Peter. The pack keeps moving forward which makes Peter quickly turn and growl at the pack.  
“Whoa, Peter! Really?” Stiles reaches for Peter’s hand in attempts to get his attention. Peter steps back and around, effectively covering Stiles’ body with his own. “Peter, what the fuck? This is so uncalled for”  
“Maybe so, but he smells like anger and hate. There is no way he is walking towards you smelling like that” Peter admits as he points at an unknown beta from Satomi’s pack. Peter is right, the beta looks like he hates Peter or Stiles, or maybe even their relationship.  


Deaton shows up soon after, and Peter rolls his eyes when everyone is equally surprised and revealed to see him alive. It makes Stiles bark out a laugh.  
“One of the elves is dead.” Deaton smiles. “Good”.  
Scott chooses this time to tentatively ask Peter to explain how he knew it wasn't Deaton for sure and Peter rolls his eyes again.  
“Elves don’t have a scent. S mentioned that 5 times within a one hour’s period and none of you cared. Deaton smells like jasmine and wolfs bane. Do any of you even know that? When that elf entered the loft, it was as though some of the smell in the room was gone. If any of you had been-”  
“Peter-” Stiles wants to keep the conversation from going there.  
“You know what I think about this. Their infantile refusal to understand your complexities and intelligence is getting dangerous-”  
“Peter”, Stiles doesn't want to talk about this right now. He doesn't want to agitate Peter further with the reminder that all of their lives were saved by the fact that out of the 20 plus people in the room, only Peter listened to him.

Peter clicks his tongue in agitation because even after calming his wolf, Peter the person can’t stand seeing Stiles ignored and disrespected on the simple principle that intelligence should be appreciated, respected, and nurtured. He reaches forward and intertwines his fingers with Stiles’. They had talked about this, public displays of affection were not a comfortable thing for both of them, but there were exceptions and today was one of them dammit! His thumb gently traces the pale and delicate skin of Stiles’ hand as he watched Stiles work. They are having a conversation about the other elf and what to do about the fact that it may be coming to them with a new agenda of vengeance because of what Peter had just done. Squeezing Stiles’ hand one more time, Peter steps back and sits down on the couch where he’d been sitting earlier.  
Time passes slowly as Peter starts to feel the adrenaline quickly flow out of him. He hates the feeling. It reminds him that he is still recovering from the death, from the fights, and of course from the time in isolation. He still isn't used to being so on, so attentive to other things other than just Stiles. Even through his exhaustion though he can feel the heat of someone’s eyes on his back. He slowly turns to find Braeden standing by the staircase looking right at him. She jerks her head upstairs and without thinking about it, he nods.  
  
“Peter?” Stiles questions as Peter stands and begins to make his way up the stairs. He knows that Stiles wants to ask if he is okay, if he is not going to have a breakdown of some sort but he can’t, so Peter tries to smile reassuringly as he follows Braeden up the stairs.  
  
“Still soundproof I see”, He says as he walks inside Derek and Braeden’s bedroom. It is fully decked out with things that look like furniture and decorative details but work as weapons as well.  
  
“Yep.” Braeden moves towards the bed and starts changing the bed sheets. “Come lay down, yeah? You look like shit” she adds. Peter nudges his head towards the couch and Braeden shrugs.  
  
“Oh now Braeden, you charm me with your compliments. Are you sure it is my nephew you truly want?”  
“I am pretty sure” Braeden laughs, throwing a pillow in Peter’s direction. “Besides, I am certain if anyone even tried to look at you with those intentions Stiles might just have to kill them.”  
  
To that Peter merely nods. He knows he would kill for Stiles, but Stiles killing for him is a notion he much less certain of.  
He is quite unsure of Braeden as well. He knows she and Stiles are rather close. Being that she, other than Peter and Deaton, is the only person that truly understands Stiles and his potential. He knows they don’t talk much but Stiles has a couple of texts from her, updates about her travels with Derek and so on.  
  
“What do you know?” Peter asks as he moves toward the couch, watching as Braeden undresses and slides in the newly made bed.  
  
“Not much, I mean. There is that neck-wrist thing you two have going on. If it is what I think it is, I know enough to understand that it is absolutely none of my business.”  
  
“Mmmhm. Clever. You can always just ask if you want. I might even tell you the dirty details.”  
  
“Yeah, I am going to bail on that offer. But thank you anyway”  
  
There is another lull in the conversation as Peter lies back on the couch and closes his eyes.  
  
It is a little odd this relationship between Peter and Braeden. Derek once told him on his visits to Eichen House, that Braeden understood Peter better than a lot of people ever will. He’d told Peter very little but to be fair, Derek too, knew very little about Peter.

In what seems like hours later there is knock on the door before it opens and Stiles moves forward, closing the door behind him. Braeden is asleep but Peter has been sleeping on and off. He doesn't sleep very well these days, something he is still surprised Stiles doesn't bring up after spending a good number of nights in his bed.  
“They are finally done. Are you going home? Do you want me to come with you or are you going to move to the couch downstairs and spend the night here?” Stiles is whispering.  
  
“Come home with me?”  
  
“Okay. I’ll text my dad.”  
~.~  
  
  
It is 12 AM when Scott texts Stiles trying to apologize for the packs’ behavior earlier. The text comes as Stiles is lying on Peter’s bed with his legs spread. Peter is kneeling between his legs with his arms behind his back, his mouth and tongue working the head of Stiles’ prick. Stiles is reluctant to break eye contact with Peter again because he looks absolutely blissed out with his mouth on Stiles. His hair is a mess from Stiles’ hands and his eyes are bright blue. Even with a cock in his mouth, there is a cocky smirk on his stretched lips that never seems to go away. Peter’s hair is quite a bit longer, so Stiles pulls his head further down by his hair. He uses his long leg to wrap around Peter’s shoulders and hold him there as his hips thrust upwards. Peter growls with Stiles’ slowly thrusts, each one pushing his cock further into Peter’s mouth. Stiles can’t decide what he loves more, the mouth on his cock, or the idea that Peter is fully dressed down to his shoes, while Stiles is completely naked.  
  
His phone makes a loud shrill soon after but this time it doesn't stop. Scott is calling him.  
  
“That feels so good, wolf! Don’t stop.” Stiles groans as he lets go of Peter’s hair and reaches for the phone.  
  
“Dammit, what is it Scott!?” On the end he can hear Scott stutter for a second, he wasn't expecting Stiles to sound so upset with him.  
  
Stiles knows Scott can hear what they are doing, so he doesn't bother with hiding it.  
  
“Make it sloppy, wolf” he whispers to Peter and Peter does just that. He moves his arms forward to steady himself but Stiles tightens his leg in disapproval. “No, keep them behind your back. Suck me with your hands behind your back. It is so fucking hot”  
  
“LookIjustwantedtoapologizeforthepackbutyouareclearlybusy….sobye!” Scott spits out and then quickly hangs up.  
  
Peter chuckles at Scott’s discomfort as he lets the sloppy squelch of precome and spit guide his movements.


	7. Falling in Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your dad got a call about a young woman screaming at the park near Peter’s house”

Stiles wakes up feeling good and that is saying something. He’d spent last night celebrating life with Peter.

They’d talked about what Stiles had wanted to do and what he wanted to be, now that he was done with university. He’d felt like for the first time since high school, he was looking towards the future without a sense of trepidation and uncertainty.

He rolls over in Peter’s bed hoping to have a happy cuddle with Peter that he is sure Peter will resist but he finds that he is in bed alone. Standing, he reaches for a pair of boxer briefs, pulls them on, and then makes his way towards the living room.

~ Peter~

“Hi, Peter” Stiles greets walking towards Peter. Peter is not in the greatest of moods this morning because he had not been able to sleep well last night. Not being an uncommon occurrence, he usually would not worry about it except that last night, Stiles started mumbling things in a language that Peter could not identify. Stiles moves towards him and wraps his arms around Peter’s neck. As usual, Peter leans forward; pressing is face in the crook of Stiles neck and breathes in. He does it again. Another time, and then steps back. He can’t smell Stiles at all. He tries to sniff the air once again and then-

The elf!

In a panic he puts his guard up and waits for Stiles to move closer.

“What is wrong, baby?” A phrase meant to sooth Peter only makes him cringe.

It is not that it is weird for Stiles to call Peter that, it is just that he had questioned Peter tirelessly when they had first started talking. He asked about why Peter ever called him ‘baby’. He had mentioned how odd and unlike them it seemed. 

As though Stiles can tell what Peter is thinking, he walks towards Peter and presents his wrists palm up for Peter to scent. Peter stares at them; he can see the blue veins pumping blood inside Stiles' body. He tries to relax and not let this affect him.

“Peter” Stiles whispers again moving his wrists closer to Peter nose.

Peter feels silly. This is Stiles. He’d spent the night touching this body, he had spent hours sharing stories he had never told anyone before and in turn Stiles had been there. This is Stiles. Peter’s eyes lower to Stiles’ feet. He starts slow, remembering all of the things Stiles had told him from his research.  
He counts Stiles toes, checking their color as he goes. 1, normal color, 2 normal color, 3, normal color, 4 normal color, 5 normal color, 6...

Over his counting, Peter can hear Stiles’ heart tick unevenly, giving away his nervousness. He tries to take a deep breath in order to relax. He knows his behavior is making Stiles, whose wrists are still proffered, nervous. Peter wants to soothe him but he cannot address that until he is finished. Until he is sure.

...6 normal color, 7 normal color, 8 normal color, 9 normal color, 10 normal color.

Stiles is only wearing a pair of boxer briefs so it makes it easy to inspect his body. Peter follows the curve of Stiles’ ankles and up his calves. He focuses on the detail of the little hairs that cover his legs. Stiles’ thighs are next, Stiles is standing completely still so his muscles are a bit tense. Peter tries to not take that as a bad thing. He tries not to think that ‘Stiles’ is tense because he is preparing for an attack.

“Peter, please” Stiles stretches his arms further forward. He sounds a little broken. Peter is making him feel this way, he knows it. His issues with...whatever...are hurting Stiles, but try as he may, he cannot stop.

“Take off your boxers” And Stiles slowly, as if trying to startle Peter, pulls his wrists back, hooks his thumbs in the elastic of the boxer briefs and effectively pushes them down his legs, and off his body.

He stands up again, righting his body to its previous stance with his arms towards Peter.

Peter lets his eyes follow Stiles’ body upwards and then “Turn around”

~ Stiles~

Stiles’ phone goes off then. He lets it ring. It doesn't matter who is calling right now. 

Standing there he tries not to look and sound as nervous as he truly feels. Peter has shifted in his distress. His face is completely blank and he refuses to respond to Stiles. They had talked about this before.

_“What is it like? Yours?” Peter asks. They are both sitting up in Peter’s bed with their backs against the headboard. It is one of those nights where they both can’t sleep. Stiles had come over in the middle of the night with the idea of 'what is the point of talking on the phone all night when they could sit, hold, touch, and comfort each other'._

_“It is never the same. I have dreams where I am killing people all the time. Most of the time, it is family. It is friends. Sometimes you. I dream about having absolutely no control over my body all the time.”_

_Peter reaches for Stiles’ hand, interlocking their fingers and squeezing._

_“Can I tell you something?” Stiles sighs as he squeezes back._

_“Of course”_

_“You can’t freak out though. I know…I know you have your own shit and this- this could change a lot of things but, you can’t freak out”_

_“I know, Kryz. I won’t”_

_“You also can’t do that cocky, blank face thing you do either. I know you. I can see through that.”_

_Peter smiles and then chuckles. “I know!” He lifts their hands and places a kiss on back of Stiles’ hand. “Tell me”_

_“I don’t think it’s gone”_

_“What isn't gone?”_

_“The nogitsune”_

_Peter tries not to react. He tries to stay as still as possible for as long as possible but he can’t because his body has already reacted. He can see the frown on Stiles’ face. He knows he has fucked up because as those words leave Stiles’ mouth, he loosens his grip in Stiles’ hand minutely._

_Anyone, any human other than Stiles would not have been able to tell the difference, but Stiles is smart, Stiles knows. Peter might as well have dropped his hand. Stiles continues anyway..._

_“I feel bad sometimes. I feel...like I can do bad things and like it.”_

_“How is that different from what my problems are?” Peter questions, because he chose Stiles, no one is forcing him to be here. So he has to be supportive._

_“I don’t know. I guess yours is a part of who you are, you know?”_

_“And that makes it better?”_

_“I don’t know. What does your PTSD look like?”_

_“I doubt everything. I have issues telling what is real and what is not. Which is suppose can be very dangerous because I am quite impulsive.”_

_“Like...like hallucinating?” Stiles glances over at Peter._

_“Kind of. I mean Dr. Valak kind of fucked me up. They said I was out for 6 months, but it felt like nothing had changed. I was living an entire life in my mind all the way from when Talia was still alive”_

_“ Oh. Shit. What should I do?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“How do I make you know that it is real? That I am real”_

_“Just let me smell you.”_

The phone doesn't stop going off. It rings and rings and rings but Peter does not let up on his inspection and Stiles doesn't dare move. Knowing that Peter has shifted, it would only take one wrong move on Stiles’ part to escalate things and get himself killed.

So he waits. 

Eventually, Peter steps tentatively towards Stiles, wrapping his arms around Stiles waist.

He takes one of Stiles’ wrists and sniffs it deeply.

“Peter” Stiles tries again, because from how the phone is going off, they could be in danger and not know it.

“Mmmhm?”

“I...are you okay?” Stiles tries to turn towards Peter but Peter stops him.

“Yeah. I just-”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me. But...I need to get the phone” Stile waits. Peter doesn't let go of him for another minute but when he does, Stiles runs for the phone.

“Hello?”

_“Are you okay?! Is Peter fine?”_ Scott is panting and he sounds frantic.

“What?” Stiles looks toward Peter who is looking right at him as well, listening in.

_“Your dad got a call about a young woman screaming at the park near Peter’s house”_

“Lydia-” Stiles’ stomach drops. “Who died?”

“ _We don’t know...we thought...we thought maybe you, or Peter. I...hold on…..LYDIAAA!”_

Stiles looks over at Peter’s worried face. There is a bunch of commotion on the other side of the phone.

_“LYYDDIIIA!”_

Realizing exactly what just happened, Stiles' body freezes and the phone slips out of his hand. Peter is still looking right at Stiles but his hands are now raised as if in surrender. They can hear Scott calls for Stiles over the phone, his voice getting louder with each non response from Stiles. They are both in the same position, frozen at the immediate realization of just how close Stiles was to loosing his life at the hands of his lover, when Scott and the pack barge into Peter's flat. 


	8. Are you okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He leans forward, sitting on the bed in front of Peter.
> 
> “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”
> 
> “Which part?” Peter’s voice is a little rough. It usually gets like that when he has turned, something about the vocal chords changing shape along with the outward features.
> 
> Stiles ducks his head to make eye contact with Peter, who keeps looking down at his fingers. He tries that a couple of times and when he fails, he reaches out, placing his palms against Peter’s cheeks to tilt his head up.
> 
> “Wolf, I’m not mad, okay? I didn't think you were going to really kill me. It is fine.”

It had been like this for the past hour, Scott yelling at Stiles about his safety and Stiles yelling back about how he could take care of himself and all of the worrying and yelling being really unnecessary.

“It’s not a big deal! Everything was fine!” Stiles is outside Peter’s apartment with Scott. Scott has been yelling on and on and all Stiles can think about is what this is doing to Peter, what Peter might be thinking in terms of how this is going to end.

“Everything was not fine, we all thought you were dead and according to Lydia’s powers, you might as well have been.” Scott’s face is red with anger, but even through that Stiles can see the worry in his eyes.  
  
“Stiles, please, he could have killed you. You’re my best friend. Try and see it from my perspective” Scott sighs as all signs of anger leave him immediately. He looks so tired.

“I know, Scott. But you have to trust me here, okay. I know Peter, he wasn't going to go through with it, he was just confused” Stiles is so keenly aware of what he is saying and how much of it he saying because even though they are outside the flat, with everyone else is inside, more than half of them, Peter included, can hear everything he and Scott are saying.

Stiles can see Scott does not understand what he means by Peter’s confusion and when Scott asks just that in low whispering tone, Stiles mouths ‘P’ ‘T’ ‘S’ ‘D’ in response.  
They stand there for a minute or two just looking at each other, neither of them knowing what to say.  
Stiles watches intently as Scott reaches in his left back pocket and pulls out his phone. He can see Scott’s fingers moving quickly on the screen. When Scott’s fingers stop typing, he looks up at Stiles again, and then Stiles’ phone goes off. He pulls it out, swipes the screen to unlock it and then reads a message from Scott.

1:19 PM  
I want to ask you something but don’t get mad okay? ~ Scotty

Stiles looks up at Scott. He knows they had just entered sensitive territory if Scott is choosing to text Stiles. He knows this not only because Scott needs to be careful with what he says out loud since the pack and Peter can hear him, but also because when conversations got complicated when they were younger, they would turn off the lights, lie in bed, go under the covers, and text each other.  They’d always said texting brought out an honesty in both of them that could not be achieved otherwise. They had not done this in years and Stiles wonders what that means for their honesty.

1: 19 PM  
Don’t say anything bad or untrue about my dad, my mom, or Peter and I promise not to get mad. ~ S

1: 19 PM  
Do you think it is a good idea, you know...  
Dating Peter or whatever, when both of have PTSD? ~Scotty

It takes a moment for what Scott is asking to actually sink in. It is really personal and rather invasive question but Stiles has to give it up to Scott because it sure is a very honest question. 

1: 20 PM  
Also, what about the dominant stuff, does that help? I mean I know they don’t have to connect or whatever. But I mean like is that why you feel like he won’t do anything? Not sure what I am asking right now. ~ Scotty.

1: 21 PM  
I don't know dude, I mean. It makes things really hard, you know?   
It makes it hard to be normal? Also with the d/s stuff, it is only as much as he lets me control something, right? I mean he could always say no or whatever ~ S

1:21 PM  
Ok. Do you ever get confused? Like that? ~ Scotty

1: 22 PM  
Not like that, no. But sometimes I think that and I guess know, kind of...that the nogitsune picked me because I was already kind of holding the potential for those things. So...before you judge Peter just...think about how you see Peter and then consider that I am with him and what that says about me. ~ S

Stiles sends the text and looks up, waiting to see Scott’s expression when he reads the text. Scott is the second person Stiles has confessed this to.

He waits for a look of betrayal, he waits for pity, he waits for denial, but all he gets is a clear blank face. Scott looks up at him and slides his phone back into his pocket without sending anything back.

“Scot-”

“No. It’s fine” Scott interrupts as he moves forward to hug Stiles.

“What? Dude, what do you mean?”

“Go talk to him” Scott says as he lets go of Stiles. He opens the door and gently pushes Stiles back in as he places his foot in front of Stiles to trip him.

Stiles trips a little and shoves Scott back with a smile on his face. “What the fuck was that for?

Scott laughs and then shrugs in response “Your shoes are on the wrong feet, you had it coming.” At that, Stiles looks down at his feet and realizes that indeed his shoes are not on correctly. He shrugs.

“Whatever. If you were in hurry your shoes would be on the wrong way, as well”

  
Stiles goes straight for the bedroom after that, knowing that Peter would not be out here with everyone else.  As he walks down the hallway, he can hear the pack leaving. He reaches for the door knob to Peter’s bedroom and lets himself in.

Peter is sitting in the middle of his bed, wolfed out and cracking his knuckles. It hurts Stiles to see Peter so out of control and for someone reason he feels guilty about it, as though it is his job to keep Peter in control.

“Hi” He says. Peter looks up at him and responds with a nod. Outwardly, Peter looks the same as he always does, confident, arrogant, unfazed. However, Stiles now knows better and seeing Peter like this saddens him further.

He takes off his shoes and socks as he walks forward towards Peter. He pulls down his shorts, and yanks off his shirt and leaving just his boxers on. He had put on the most clothing he could find after the pack had barged in and found him completely naked.

He leans forward, sitting on the bed in front of Peter.

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Which part?” Peter’s voice is a little rough. It usually gets like that when he has turned, something about the vocal chords changing shape along with the outward features.

Stiles ducks his head to make eye contact with Peter, who keeps looking down at his fingers. He tries that a couple of times and when he fails, he reaches out, placing his palms against Peter’s cheeks to tilt his head up.

“Wolf, I’m not mad, okay? I didn't think you were going to really kill me. It is fine.”

“How do you know? I have killed a lot of times before and not given a damn” Peter challenges, but his tone has no real passion behind it.

“Because, you had tons of opportunities to kill me and you haven’t. You have woken up from nightmares ready to kill the first thing you see. You try to hide it but I can tell and when you see me while in this state, what do you usually do?”

Peter maintains eye contact with Stiles but says nothing else.

“Mmmhm? What do you do, wolf?” Stiles prompts, his voice softening a little

“I push you way.”

“Exactly” Stiles smiles and lets go of Peter’s face to move behind him. He leans back against the headboard and reaches out to grab Peter’s shirt to pull him back. Peter scoots backwards until his clothed back is flush against Stiles’ front.

“You always keep my safety in mind, don’t you, wolf?” Stiles is sure Peter is struggling to stay still. He has his hands inside of Peter’s shirt, his fingers gently caressing the skin above and below his belly button. Peter nods. Stiles leans forward to place his head against Peter’s left shoulder in order to lower his tone and whisper in Peter’s ear.

“And besides, sometimes I don’t want to be safe. Sometimes, I am darker and more sinister than everyone seems to think you are, but you already know that, don’t you?”  
His tongue extends as he licks the ridge of Peter’s pointed ear. Peter inhales sharply and then nods again.

“Take your cock out” Stiles says nudging his face against Peter’s shoulder.

With big hands and pointed claws, Peter undoes the buttons on his jeans and reaches inside to take his dick out like Stiles had asked. Immediately, Stiles wraps his fingers around the prominent erection and starts stroking.

“Do you think you were going to kill me, Peter?”

Peter shakes his head ‘no’ as his hands move to Stiles’ legs that encircle his own. He runs his claws back and forth in the hairs there as Stiles rubs his own hard on against Peter’s back.

“No, you wouldn't, ever. You would hurt me, though.” It is not question, but interestingly, it is the one Peter verbally responds to. 

“If you told me to, yes” Stiles feels more fucked up than he usually does at this moment, because as those words leave Peter’s mouth they seem to travel straight down to his cock. He leans back further, moving his hips lower as he effectively lifts Peter onto his lap.

“Exactly, Peter. If I told you to hurt me, and leave me with bruises you’d do it immediately. You would do it because you know exactly how hard it gets me.” he whispers while losing his grip on Peter’s cock and quickening his pace, just like Peter likes it.  
“Do you get off on it too, Pet? On me letting you bruise me, letting you physically push me around when we both know who has to real power in the relationship?” Stiles can hear Peter panting loudly, his hips rotating and thrusting up then down as his arse grinds against Stiles’ cock. Stiles mouths the string around Peter’s neck. He then takes it between his teeth and slowly pulls it back, restricting Peter’s breathing.  
  
“Don’t you just love the freedom of being who you are, knowing that I am responsible for it all? Knowing that I will take care of it, of you?” Stiles’ words sound slightly muffled with the string in mouth but it does not matter. He knows Peter can hear every word.

“Kryz…” Peter groans and Stiles feels Peter’s cock jerk in hand and release a copious amount of precome.

“Just relax, wolf” Stiles prompts as he releases the string. He reaches down and roughly pulls his boxers out of the way. He moans at the unexpected roughness of Peter’s jeans against his dick.

He loosens his grip even more, his fingers barely touching Peter’s cock, just teasing in the way the drives Peter insane.

“Fuuck, Kryz! Even less, please” Peter whines and then growls when Stiles’ large hand is only occasionally brushing his cock. They are different in this way, Peter loves to lessen the stimulation the closer he gets. He says his cock gets so sensitive that anything more would be too much. However, it is the exact opposite for Stiles, whose arm encircles Peter’s waist to pull his deeper into his lap. The denim feeling like the harshest treatment his dick has ever gotten and it hurts so fucking good.

His hips jerk forward to match Peter’s movements as he continues to talk to him, he doesn't think he will even remember what he is saying. It is all so in the moment.

“My wolf” he groans. “You weren't going to kill me this morning. Do you know why?”

Peter leans back further, his own hands still on Stiles’ thighs, his claws digging into Stiles flesh.

“Because you wouldn't...fuck...you wouldn't have let me” Stiles can see Peter's abs tense with each loose stroke. It is fucking hypnotic.

“There you go. You weren't going to kill me because you’re a good boy. You always wait for me to give you permission.” Peter whines, his hips bucking forwards so his cock can make more contact with Stiles’ loose fist.

“Look at you, wolf. You ready to come now, aren't you? You are, and you are not even asking for it. Such a good boy.” Stiles clenches his eyes tight because fuck it he is really close. He tightens his hold on Peter’s waist and quickens his thrusts against the abrasive fabric covering Peter’s arse as he completely lets go on Peter’s dick.

He runs his hand over Peter thighs, balls, and hole from inside the denim and when he returns his hand to Peter’s weeping cock, it is only to run his index finger slowly up and down the length of it.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck...” Peter chants, his grip on Stiles’ thighs tightening until his claws pierce Stiles' skin.

“That’s my good boy. Come when you’re ready” Stiles groans, using just the tip of finger to circle the engorged wet head of Peter’s cock. Peter comes then, and Stiles follows soon after.


	9. When you comfort me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being with Peter was like being with a ticking time bomb.
> 
> There nothing that did not have the capabilities to set him off, and maybe that is why Stiles liked him so much. He too was so close to the precipice.

Being with Peter was like being with a ticking time bomb.

There nothing that did not have the capabilities to set him off, and maybe that is why Stiles liked him so much. He too was so close to the precipice.

This time however, Stiles can’t handle how on edge Peter is being.

They are walking towards to forest side by side the very first time it happens. “The great Peter Hale, letting a human tell him what to do. Ha!” A member of Satomi’s pack says it the next time they meet. Stiles assumes it is because he was there when Peter had killed that elf and made some assumptions. Stiles and Peter take it well. Neither one reacts, or even says anything to other afterwards. They both know what they are to each other, what they both are getting from their relationship, so neither gives it any time.  
Even as they walk away and ignore the situation, Stiles can tell that Peter is slightly withdrawn and maybe a little embarrassed.

The second time it happens months later Peter’s step falters slightly.

“Look at the human and his pet, eh.” A member of the neighboring pack they are meeting with laughs as they approach.

It really isn't even respectful how loud he is saying it. Stiles steels himself, because he is used to being picked on, he knows how to deal with it. He supposes it isn't a secret that he and Peter are together; Scott had once told him that he smelled like he never showered after being with Peter. He had jokingly asked what that was about and Stiles had told him plainly and simply. _He scents me a bit more the usual. I think he needs it and I like it. So, don’t like it? You can get some nose plugs, buddy._ He had said with a playful tone because truly Scott wasn't exactly complaining. He was merely expressing an interest and curiosity about his best friend’s relationship.

However, just because it is not a secret does not mean that it is out there for public scrutiny.

At the harsh laugh, Stiles could feel Peter move away from him minutely and as much as he wanted to reach out and ask him what is going on, he knew that an agitated Peter was not the person to fuck around with.

So he inhales and exhales again.

He could feel the anger bubbling inside him the further Peter walked away from him. So when they were half way through with the introductions, Peter announced that he was going to check out the perimeter and then go home.

If he had been an official member of Scott’s pack, it would have been a really disrespectful thing to do, but Stiles was pretty sure that even then, Peter was his own person and would do what he wanted. Pack be damned.

So immediately after he steps away, Stiles makes the same excuse and follows Peter out of the clearing.

They are in Peter’s car when Stiles reaches out the hold Peter’s hand and Peter pulls away.

“Wolf, what-”

“Don’t call me that.” He responds, his face is just as blank and devoid of feeling as his voice.

Stiles takes in a deep breath.

This is not the first time Peter has snapped at him over what Stiles feels is a very small problem.

“Peter” Stiles tries again. “What is it?” His voice is soft and soothing, and it is usually his go to tone to relax Peter, to calm him. He reaches out further to rub Peter’s arm and Peter presses away from his touch again.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, Stiles. I am not in the mood for your dominant submissive shit, right now.” Peter sounds so mean when says that.

It takes Stiles back to when he’d first met Peter and how heartless he seemed then.

Stiles is itching to hit or punch something from how angry he is. He can feel the pins and needles that take root in his palms and feet when he feels too much.

He only realizes his hand is still touching Peter’s arm when Peter snaps for him to stop rubbing his arm.  

Stiles pulls his hand away as though it has been burned. It might as well have been because Peter had made a big fucking deal about calling him by his real name that it feels foreign and hurtful to hear him call Stiles but his nickname.

He doesn't know what to feel at the moment, because as upset he is, he is still calm. He is not fidgeting like he used to, he doesn’t want to have a drink and forget about it, nor does he want to yell at Peter.

So he decides to just go home.

“Stop the car”

“What?” Peter’s head whips sideways to face Stiles, with his face finally showing some emotion.

He looks shocked.

He looks as though he was not expecting Stiles to say what he did.

He looks like he was expecting Stiles to sit there and take this kind of talk like he had been doing for the last two months but Stiles had had it.

It is excusable to be upset and say things out of turn.

Sure.

But Peter had been throwing tiny jabs at their relationship and Stiles for a while now, and there was only so much Stiles would tolerate of this internalized bullshit.

“Stop the car, please. I am going to walk home.” Stiles’ voice is so calm it even unnerves him.

“It is over two miles to your dad’s.” Peter is looking at Stiles every couple of seconds like he is uncomfortable and unsure of what Stiles is going to do. Never having gotten used to Stiles’ stillness, Stiles knows it puts a lot of people not just Peter, on edge.

He doesn't really care right now, though.

“Then drop me off, Peter. Do what you want, it is your car.”

The drive to his place would have been awkward if Stiles had not effectively shut his feelings off. When Peter pulls up into the driveway, Stiles exists the car, walking towards his house and entering without looking back at Peter.

He makes his way to the shower, stripping as he goes. He stands in the shower, letting the hot water wash away the boiling agitation and  need to just say fuck it and never talk to Peter again.

It kind of works when 30 minutes later he is feeling slightly better and entirely too pruney.

He hears a car pull up and makes his way downstairs.

“Hi, son” His father walks in looking tired. Stiles is having a pretty shit day himself but he decided to put that aside for moment and take care of his father.

Stiles walks around the kitchen in a zombie like state as makes supper.

“Stiles?” His father had just come down the stairs dressed in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, his hair wet from the shower.

“Yeah?”

“I know you don’t like it when I worry, but son...is everything okay?”  

There is a silence. Stiles does not want to answer. He does not want to talk about this with his father.

He sighs and preps himself to speak.

“Not really, Dad. But, I will figure it out”

“Is it about that guy you are seeing?” His dad sounds like he skirting around the subject. He sounds like he is unsure of how Stiles will react.

Groaning, Stiles places his face in palms. “Dad!”

“Stiles, look-” The sheriff stands for where he had sitting and walks towards Stiles. He places a hand of Stiles shoulder. “I know you don’t want me to know about it. You have been shockingly secretive about him and that is fine. I don’t need to know everything, but I am still your parent. And as such, it never sits well with me when you are upset. All I am asking is that you assure me that you know, I am willing to listen. I might not like a word of it, but I will listen.

“Everything is fine, dad. He is being a little difficult right now, I can’t understand why. That is all.” Stiles turns and hugs his father. “Thanks”.

~*~

 

Later that night Stiles finds that he cannot sleep. He needs to talk about this. He needs to feel like he is not being completely irrational with his reactions. So pulls out his phone and texts the one person that always listens and gives advice impartially.

11:00 PM  
Lyds. Are you up? ~ S

11:02 PM  
 _ **Yes. ~L**_

11:02 PM  
Are you busy? ~S

11:04 PM  
 ** _A little. Aiden’s here. Give me a couple of minutes and then I am all yours. ~L_**

Stiles lays there and tries not to think of much while he waits. His thumb keeps sliding over Peter’s name. They have spent of much time talking on phone at night that Stiles’ night feels purposeless and empty. What did he used to do before he started having late night talks with Peter?

11:40 PM  
 ** _So, what’s up? ~L_**

12: 00 AM  
Do you think I am suffocating Peter? ~ S

12:01 AM  
 ** _Not at all. But then again, I am not with you guys all the time, Stiles. What is wrong? ~ L_**

12:01 AM  
I got into a fight w/ Peter & I can’t fucking calm down. He is acting like...he said he wasn't in the mood for the shit we do and that I shouldn't touch him. All of that over some stupid comments people keep making. ~S

12:04 AM  
 ** _In the mood for what shit? ~ L_**

12:05 AM  
Our fucking relationship basically! the d/s stuff. ~ S

12:07 AM  
 ** _Are you guys 24/7? ~ L_**

12: 07 AM  
What do you mean? ~ S

12: 07 AM  
 ** _As in, do you stay in those roles 24/7? Because if so, then he is clearly saying he doesn't want that all the time. Right? ~ L_**

12: 09 AM  
No, I mean. We are kind of 24/7 but it is like latent. It is the basis of our interactions but it doesn't like happen all the time or whatever. ~ S

12: 10 AM  
 ** _Talk to him, Stiles. These kinds of arguments are not good when left to fester. Besides, I think you knew it wasn't going to be easy being with Peter. He knows it is not easy being with you. That is why you are together, because you get each other. Isn't that what you said? ~ L_**

12: 12 AM  
Yeah ~ S

12: 12 AM  
 ** _There you go! Aiden says maybe it is a disconnect with his wolf and human side. ~ L_**

12: 13 AM  
Lyds! These are meant to be private. Also, hi Aiden. ~ S

12: 13 AM  
 ** _He is in bed with me, there isn't much I can hide from him when he is the big spoon. ~ L_**

12: 13 AM  
That’s fine. Thanks Lyds. ~S

12: 14 AM  
 ** _No problem. Just talk to him. ~L_**

~*~

 

Stiles doesn't see Peter for the next week. He is busy looking for an apartment with Lydia and Scott for most of the week. When he has free time, he is spending it with his dad.

He’d tried calling Peter the week before after talking with Lydia, but they’d ended up fighting about him airing their business to Lydia. It was stupid and not even worth discussing. He is not sure who hung up first, all he knows is that Peter has not tried to contact him.

He is making his way home, trying to rationalize his anger and call Peter again, when he sees Peter’s car in his driveway and his anger comes back. Pissed off, Stiles yanks the jeep door open and matches toward Peter’s car.

Peter gets out just as Stiles has made his way to driver’s side.

“If you don’t like what we do, Peter, just fucking say so! I don’t need this fucking passive aggressive bullshit from you, when I am only trying to be good to you!” Stiles yells.

“I know, what I said was out of line. You don’t have to yell.”

“Why not? Huh? You make it sound like this shit...” Stiles gestures roughly between them. “....Like this shit we do is just for me, like I am fucking forcing it upon you. Like I am no better than Valak, than Talia...fucking taking your will from you!”

“I know. I am sorry!”

“What the fuck good is that supposed to do? You have apologized so many times and you just keep doing the same shit.”

“I know”

“Do you know what Scott fucking asked me? Huh? He asked if I am certain this is what you want” Stiles can feel the anger bubbling inside him in a way that it never has. He can feel his hands and fingers almost extend as the anger fills him from the top of his head to the end of his finger and toe tips.

“Kryz”

“No, you are fucking hurting me, Peter. You are hurting my feelings and making me feel like I am a bad fucking Dom or boyfriend or whatever the fuck I am to you, when all I want to do is make you feel better. It-”

“Kryz! Your e-”

“Let me finish!” Stiles raises his voice and for a second Peter quiets. “That shit you say hurts me, Peter. **You** hurt me.”

“Kryz, your eyes” Peter says, almost entirely deflated from Stiles’ words.

Stiles focuses on Peter’s face and finds that he looks...scared? Nervous? 

Stiles rushes to the car side mirror and looks at himself. What he sees has him stumbling back. His eye color keeps fluctuating from a neon green to a black. Dammit.

“You have to call Deaton” Peter says stepping back away from Stiles for a second before stepping closer tentatively.

“No, it is nothing.” Stiles says sighing. He leans against the door and takes a couple of deep breaths, in and out, trying to relax himself.

“What do you mean? That is not 'nothing'.” Peter moves in front of Stiles, not touching him but stepping into his personal space.

“It happens when I am stressed out, it doesn't matter.”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long has it been happening?”

“Two months or so” Stiles leans back, his head tipping to the sky as he keeps trying to regulate his breathing.

“Let me help”

Stiles rolls his eyes in annoyance at Peter’s flip flopping emotions. “No”.

“Kryz, it is a big a deal whether or not you want to deal with it and it seems like I am part of why it is happening.” Stiles takes a minute to consider it. “No. I am tired and I just need to sleep, come in if you want. I can’t promise I will be in the mood to talk to you though.” Peter quickly shuts the car door, locks it, and follows Stiles into the house.

Stiles walks quickly into the house and takes his clothes off.   
He is only in his boxers as he makes his way up the stairs, into his room, and straight into bed.

 

~

It is 2AM when Stiles wakes up from his body overheating. Peter is wrapped around his back cuddling close to Stiles. Usually, at Peters, they leave the air conditioning on for the entire night. Stiles feels less upset. He just wants to talk now. He wants to figure this out and maybe kiss and touch Peter again. Stiles’ movements seem to wake Peter, because when Stiles looks down, he is met with bright blue eyes.

“Peter-” Stiles starts.

“Wolf, call me Wolf again.”

“Okay. Wolf, Tell me the truth. No passive aggressiveness that I can’t decipher. Tell me what you want, and why you were acting like that.”

“I like you, Stiles. I like you and I enjoy spending time with you. I want you to keep being with me. I want to keep being with you. You make me feel better. You take care of me like no one has ever cared to, and yeah, as much as it is still awkward for me, it turns me on. But I am not where you are yet, I just can’t listen to people pointing at what we are and making light of it and not feel...embarrassed. I don’t know how to submit to you in public- “

“I never asked you to. We don’t even hold hands in public, Peter.”

“I-”

“It is between us, just you and I. We know what it is. We know what it does for us. It is not just some kink thing for us and you know that.” Peter nods as he tentatively moves up to kneel on the bed.

"Would it...would it help if maybe you were in control sometimes?" Stiles asks. His heart is beating out of his chest because this something he is really uncertain about. He would do it for Peter, but in truth, it is not something he is sure he can feel comfortable doing all the time. He has come to hate feeling out of control.

"Would you like that?" Peter asks as he moves to lay on top of Stiles. His hands slide up Stiles' sides until they are pinning Stiles' wrists to be bed. 

Stiles doesn't even think about it when he shakes his head no. He doesn't have to. Just the feeling of having his wrists trapped on the bed makes him want to fight and push Peter off of him. It makes him feel like a caged animal, and maybe that is why Peter likes it. He likes feeling like he has a cage, that he has perimeters and boundaries that ensure others' safety from him. 

"No. I would not" Stiles adds as he pulls his wrists loose, wraps his arm around Peter's lower back and flips them. 

He repeats Peter previous actions. He slides his hands up Peter's torso until he is pinning Peter's wrists down this time with hand. He applies a bit of pressure and feels the jagged movement of Peter's joints rubbing together. 

"I prefer it like this" Peter whispers,his blue eyes shinning in the dark room as he wraps his legs around Stiles body to draw him closer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do leave me some constructive criticism where I need it, some love if you feel it, and some hellos for the hell of it.  
> Enjoy! ^_^


	10. I just want to know if you are going to stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let me introduce myself. I do not have an official name and thus that may be difficult. Therefore, you may call me Jaro, it more of a title than anything. These are my....pack if you will.” She stops and smiles then. Stiles isn't sure what that smile is supposed to mean. Her “pack” smiles along in an almost rehearsed manner, as if smiling is a completely foreign thing to them. It is unnerving seeing such an awkward exposure of razor sharp teeth that resemble the wendigos’ they had run into a few years back.
> 
> “True Alpha Scott McCall, second in command and possessor of the Hale Alpha lineage Shape shifting Derek Hale, forgive the intrusion. However, I believe we must discuss what is happening with your third in command and Emissary Krzysztof Janek Stilinski.”

No could accuse Peter of not being loyal. He had killed everyone that was involved in the fire that killed most of his family even though they were not the best to him. He'd fiercely defended Derek and often came to check on him because although Derek seemed to hate him early on. Peter knew that Derek was lost and devastated by the death of his mother. So in this situation, no one was there to blame Peter for his hesitation.

“I don’t know how I feel about this, Kryz”

_“They are here!” Derek growled as he stepped back and into his fighting stance. They all flanked him and Scott, Satomi’s pack, Scott’s, which was beginning to be known as the strongest pack. No longer was their mixing of human, other were, and wolf seen a weakness, not when some of the people were completely susceptible to wolfbane and magic._

_Scott growls and Derek turns completely into his wolf form. Peter steps in front of Stiles then, not caring about the fact that Stiles might not want to feel like he can’t handle himself in a fight._

_He can smell them nearing, whispering in a language that is foreign to him. He was ready though, they had killed the other elf without hesitation, he would kill these again._

_“Good morning, fellow magical creatures and humans. We are here to talk. Then after if you see it fit, if we see it fit, we will fight.” Peter noticed that he wasn't the only one straining to hear this airy voice, deep and ethereal speaking to them from outside the door. The pack members look at each other and then to Scott who nods. Always willing to negotiate if that is an option. He reaches back to touch Stiles because for some reason he is having a hard time smelling him. He is struggling to stay cloaked by his sweet cinnamon smell._

_When his hands find Stiles he is shocked into looking back at him. Stiles is cold, too cold to be alive, but he is standing right there._

_“What is it?” He is looking at himself, like he has something on his shirt, like he can’t tell that he is dead cold. His eyes when they meet Peter’s are fluctuating again, from black to their normal honey color._

_Scott raises his hand and then speaks._

_"Stay there and I will open the door.”_

_~Stiles~_

_Stiles can tell that for the first time Peter is uncertain of what to do, because usually in situations like these, he would turn to Stiles to confirm whether or not he is hallucinating, if he is off for the moment, but right now Stiles is… he looks down at himself again and still, he sees nothing._

_His nails are a bit black, but that was from...what was that from?_

_Scott opens the door and everyone freezes, waiting._

_It is almost like it is something out of a dream. They are tall, so tall they bend over when they enter the loft. Stiles isn't even supernatural and he can smell them, the lacking they move with. The air is almost suffocating because he is not used to smelling anything at all. Their airy nothingness leaves him feeling weightless and dizzy, like the elevation in the room has changed...like he is somehow really high up._

_The main one stands at about 6’7 with a body that is almost air light. Her hands are large and fingers long. She is looking at Stiles, eyes dark in a way that can only be compared to oil. They shine to imply depth but also echo a liquid, an ever moving substance in the way that they hint at muted colors of the rainbow. She suddenly turns to Scott._

_“Let me introduce myself. I do not have an official name and thus that may be difficult. Therefore, you may call me Jaro, it more of a title than anything. These are my....pack if you will.” She stops and smiles then. Stiles isn't sure what that smile is supposed to mean. Her “pack” smiles along in an almost rehearsed manner, as if smiling is a completely foreign thing to them. It is unnerving seeing such an awkward exposure of razor sharp teeth that resemble the wendigos’ they had run into a few years back._

_“True Alpha Scott McCall, second in command and possessor of the Hale Alpha lineage Shape shifting Derek Hale, forgive the intrusion. However, I believe we must discuss what is happening with your third in command and Emissary Krzysztof Janek Stilinski.”_

_Everyone turns to him and stares, yeah, this is pretty awkward because there is nothing happening for all he knows. He looks at them; they seem to be confused and almost betrayed?_

_Stiles steps forward because this shit has got to stop being so formal and get to the point._

_“Is that what you sent your little Deaton imitator to do? To talk?” He is moving quickly but carefully. He steps right up to Jaro. She smiles and reaches out to run her hands down Stiles’ neck._

_Stiles can hear Peter growl but this is his job as emissary, Peter knows this; Scott knows it, and so do Derek and Satomi. So they do nothing._

_He mirrors her movements like he read dark elves do in greeting._

_For the longest time, he feels solid without being around Peter. He can feel the blood pumping all the way down to his toes, as his fingers move and explore the elf’s grey skin._

_She reaches forward and unclasps her light covering. Revealing small barely there breasts with hard pierced nipples and a heavily muscled stomach. Stiles looks down, he knows this, it is supposed to be a gesture of peace. It is meant to show that they are not here for malicious reasons._

_Her deep voice resonates through him as she speaks “Lor was sent to confirm what we now know. He suffered an unfortunate death due to our carelessness and lack of consideration that you might be more than we thought you were.”_

_“Mmmh” Stiles mumbles as he steps back, hands reaching down and pulling his shirt off._

_“Stiles-” Scott grumbles, it sounds like it is forced out of him. He seems shocked? Scared?_

_“As the emissary, I have to mediate, uhm, let’s sit...a semi circle for the pack, and they will sit on the other side and I will be the middle, okay bro?” But Scott does not answer; he does not even give a physical response. Instead, he looks to Peter, who has gone completely pale._

_“What?!” he yells and everyone in room jumps a little. His voice is deeper than he has ever heard it. It doesn't sound like him._

_“Stiles” Scott whispers again as he points to the mirror._

_Stiles rolls his eyes and walks forward. He is not walking quickly per se because even though he feels like Scott is probably overreacting, he has never seen Scott look at him like he didn't know who he was._

_He walks closer and yeah, even he can’t recognize himself._

_He finds himself doing things that people in movies do, lifting his left arm, then his right, and turning to side._

_His hair is green. Fucking green. Not neon green that looks ridiculous and fake, it is a grass green, a moss green with tinges of brown and orange. Like nature._

_His eyes completely blacked out. But that is nothing new, except it does not change back as he tries to relax. He starts to hyperventilate because the fucking nogitsune. He knew it hadn't left! He knew it! His chest is covered in more moles than he had thought he had, he turns, turns, and turns again. From what he can see they are making some shape on his back._

_He rubs his sweaty hands on his pants and slowly turns to the rest of the room. They are all watching him, with fear, intrigue, and tentative awareness. As though he were a ticking time bomb._

_“Let us sit please. We may be able to alleviate some of your fears and concerns”_

_They sit down._

_Stiles in the middle and everyone else around him. It is ironic that he sits in the middle being that his eyes kind of look likes the elves’ and his body resembles the packs’. He makes a joke about it to relax but no one responds to it. It is like they didn't even hear him._

_Scott sits closest to him. The pack sits in a triangle formation behind him with an unoccupied place for where he would have been, right next to Derek. Satomi’s pack chooses to stand right behind the last line of the McCall- Hale pack._

_Scott_

_Derek,_

_Lydia, Kira, Braeden_

_Peter, Liam, Aiden, Jordan_

_“So, what is going on?” Scott’s voice is low and guarded, it feels weird hearing Scott’s voice filled with so much uncertainty and it must have been heard around the room because Derek places a comforting hand or maybe a restraining hand heavy on Scott’s shoulder._

_“We have been led to believe that your emissary Krzysztof Janek Stilinski, is a dark elf like us.”_

_“Well, at least partially” Jaro’s right hand man speaks. He is not dressed in the light clothing. He is wearing next to nothing, just a light covering over his junk. His body almost completely covered in healed bite marks and scars. Stiles realizes that they all sound the same. They all sound like the same person. Their tone and phrasing, like English is not their native language and they only learnt through mimicry from one source._

_“Partially, yes.” Jaro adds and waits for Scott to respond._

_“Okay? What- what does that mean?” Scott’s eyes flutter to Stiles’ but they don’t really stay. He can’t or will not look at him for long._

_“We are not sure actually. We sent our best shape shifter to sniff out what kind of powers he posses and well, that didn't end very well. He should have changed entirely in our presence, but he stays partially...that”_

_“Human?” Derek asks._

_Jaro’s right hand laughs, it sounds taunting and off. “That is not human, brother”._

_Scott’s eyes cut to the elf’s for referring to Derek as ‘brother’._

_“Ranking.” Stiles says before Scott can get a word out. “Derek is his brother because they share ranking. If there was a war, it would be between them. If there was an allegiance, Derek would work closest with-”_

_Stiles stops and turns to the elf in question._

_“Orpal” The elf supplies, with an almost impressed smirk._

_“With Orpal”_

_“You know quite a bit, emissary. I am surprised you could not see it. We are here request a marking. When a rogue elf is found, we extend a hand. We offer a marking of them as such and then they would have safety with us. This predicament is slightly new because he is neither a full elf, nor human, and also a part of the very first mixed wolf lead pack. This means with any allegiance we make with the young elf-_

_“Stiles” Liam interrupts and Jaro raises an amused eyebrow. It is horribly rude for him to interrupt but it seems Jaro finds it more amusing than anything._

_“-Stiles. Any allegiance we make with him, we must then make it with you.”_

_“An allegiance?” Derek asks and Orpal responds._

_“Yes, brother. You would have safety with us.”_

_“Wait. I am not human but i am part elf, what is the other part?”_

_“We were hoping you would know.”_

_Stiles reflects back on the things he had done._

_He revived Aiden, but that was with magic that he’d learnt from Deaton._

_Scott must see him thinking, trying to bring the pieces together, because he volunteers._

_“You are able to do magic”_

_“Druid, already canceled it”_

_“You are able to tell what supernatural creature are, to-to identify them” Jordan adds. It was true, he was the one that had discovered that Jordan was a young phoenix._

_"Yeah but that doesn't lead to-wait...more of that” Stiles turns to the pack._

_"You protect and love us” Peter adds, his eyes down cast._

" _That is a human thing though, I mean who wouldn't-”_

_"No, **us,** creatures of the forest” he reaffirms._

_“You must also take into account your ancestry as well.” Jaro adds and Stiles freezes._

_“Leshy” Stiles mutters._

_“What?” Scott_ _asks. Everyone is quiet and leaning in to hear what he said._

_He pulls out his phone because the fucking bestiary is too far._

_He reads aloud._

_“_ _The **Leshy** is a male woodland spirit in Slavic mythology that protects wild animals and forests. He is humanoid in shape, has a manly appearance. He can shape shift, with glowing eyes and often wears his-”_

_“What?” Scott asks because Stiles has stopped reading and is looking at him._

_“- wears his shoes backwards. Can sometimes be filled with tricks and is mischievous.”_

“It doesn't change anything baby, I mean, apparently I have been like this my whole life. You heard them!” Stiles tries again. 

“I know. But, then how do I know? How do I know when you are you?”

“You don’t! I can’t confirm something I don’t know, Peter. It feels like you have been itching for something-”

“What do you want from me, Kryz?”

“I just want to know if you are you going to stay.”  


~Peter~

Stiles looks so small when he says that. His shoulders turned inward. His hair is almost back to its original brown color. His eyes the beautiful pools of brown he knows so well.

Seeing Stiles like this, having seen him an hour after the elves had left staring at himself in the mirror waiting for the new characteristics to disappear and then this. He realizes that just because Stiles like to be in control for reasons beyond his understanding, it does not mean he has it all together. He is just as broken and confused as Peter is. That is why they work so well. They are both broken. They are both wild humanoid beasts.  

He looks up at the sudden thumping to find Stiles hitting his head against the wall.

“Hey, hey, stop...baby...you don’t want to hurt yourself. Please stop!”

Stiles doesn't stop per se, he merely hits his head a little less vigorously.

“Put your arms around me. You are over thinking it. You did some bad things. You did a lot of good. You are apparently a mix of really terrifying creatures. I wouldn't fret. You don’t want to hurt yourself by looking too closely.”

“I am sorry.” Stiles turns to face him. His forehead is bloodied but Peter doesn't mention it nor does he mention that his eyes are dark again. He just pulls Stiles close.

 

Later that evening, they decide that they need something, someone, who isn't so...whatever they are to keep an eye out. He knows Stiles can tell that he is nervous about his own safety but probably for Stiles’ as well. He is the one that calls Scott and asks him to move in for a bit and Scott being Scott, agrees immediately and congratulates them for putting safety first.

While is on the phone with Scott, he can hear Stiles making an important phone call of his own.

 _“Yeah Dad, I want you to meet him….yeah...I love him...Okay...I’ll see you then. Goodnight._ _Kocham Cię."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just got my first break from RL. Glad to be back with Stiles, Derek, Peter, and Scott. Go easy on me.

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to leave me some constructive criticism where I need it, some love if you feel it, and some hellos for the hell of it. Enjoy!  
> Also, I update every end of the week. That is either Friday, Saturday, or Sunday.


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